


Divine Intervention

by aria_dc_al_fine



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aria_dc_al_fine/pseuds/aria_dc_al_fine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began with Natsume risking his life to save Natori's. The chain of events that followed further caused their lives to entwine, till the 'enishi' - connection - between them cannot be undone.</p><p>P.S. Chapter 7 has officially changed the rating of this fic to Mature. Other chapters to date don't have anything graphic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The end is in the beginning and lies far ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a quote by Ralph Ellison.

“Natsume-kun!”

Natori caught the younger man – the _boy_ – as he fell backward, cursing under his breath as the Youkai that had harmed him (had meant to harm _Natori_ ) continued lunging toward them with her long, sharp claws. “Hiiragi!” he yelled for his _Shiki_ , who promptly situated herself in front of the _Jourougumo_ [1].

“That bean-sprout-” Madara growled, the sound high pitched as it was uttered in his vessel’s form, but soon enough he was bathed in a bright light, transforming from a not-cat to an enormous white beast. He bit the spindly dark-haired female Youkai and drove her away from the humans’ vicinity.

The spider slipped out of Madara’s muzzle and, after a customary glance at her opponents, quickly crawled away with her many legs, occasionally swinging from trees to trees with her web.

Madara crouched on his haunches, ready to give chase, but Natori stopped him. “Bodyguard!” the professional exorcist tried to keep the panic out of his voice, even when Natsume’s face had turned white as paper, his lips dry and bluish. “What about your charge?”

The beast cursed and returned to his smaller, more portable form as he settled on Natsume’s side. “This is bad,” the not-cat’s eyes narrowed to slits. “ _Jourougumo_ ’s poison is extremely deadly.” His paw slid across the teenage boy’s skin and wiped the sweat that was drenching his temple. “Natsume is lucky if he can survive the night.”

“ _Sou na…_ [2]” Natori held the trembling figure in his arms tighter. “Is there any way to save Natsume-kun?”

“Beats me,” the maneki-neko shrugged. “Even if I know, why should I tell you? Do you think I've been sticking around for fun? He has something I've been desiring for ages. After his death, I will finally obtain it!” his ensuing laughter, though, sounded empty.

Natori inhaled sharply. “How could you-”

“Natsume-sama!” suddenly, a female Youkai in purple kimono appeared from the edge of the forest. Her face turned really pale as she laid her eyes on the flaxen-haired boy lying on the ground with his torso pillowed on the exorcist’s chest.

“Hi…noe…” said boy spoke as he saw her, his voice frail and brittle.

“Natsume-sama!” Hinoe sidled next to Madara and squeezed Natsume’s hand. “What happened?”

Madara was resolutely not answering, his gaze locked on Natsume’s rapidly worsening countenance. Natori wasn’t much better.

“You’re Natsume-sama’s friend?” it was Hiiragi who responded to her question. “Natsume-sama was stung by a _Jourougumo_.”

“That’s terrible…” Hinoe looked stricken, until she noticed Natori. “You’re an exorcist, right?”

The older man nodded.

“You can save him,” she looked determined as she stared at him, “it’s difficult, and some may say risky, but you can save him.”

Natori’s heart rose to his throat. Before this, he didn’t let himself believe that Natsume would live. Dealing with Ayakashi is a dangerous business; this wasn’t the first near-death experiences he’d encountered. Hope began to fill him again. “Tell me how to save him.” Hinoe didn’t even need to ask if he was willing.

She nodded approvingly. “Since _Jourougumo_ ’s patron deity is Yatagarasu-sama [3], the only way you can cleanse Natsume-sama’s blood off her poison is through a transaction with Yatagarasu-sama,” she explained, “and it will be a slow process. It may take up to three days.”

Nothing good can come off making promises to a God; Matoba Clan had been paying the price for generations [4].

But Natori didn’t hesitate.

“Let’s do this.”

\----------

Natsume came to with a groan.

Everything hurt. The light that seeped through the gaps between his eyelids pierced him with its intensity. Breathing caused his ribs to ache, and his limbs felt sore and heavy as lead. The veins in his temple were _throbbing_.

In short, Natsume felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Over and over.

“Natsume?” someone called him, his voice sounding louder and louder as whoever its owner was approached him. “Are you awake?” a cool hand was pressed to his forehead.

Natsume squinted, and saw a familiar face hanging over him. “…Ta…numa?” he was surprised to see the priest’s son and an unfamiliar ceiling. Natsume craned his neck to look around, but pain exploded behind his eyes. “Ugh!” he gritted his teeth.

“Don’t move!” Nyanko-sensei appeared from the back of Tanuma’s shoulder and fretted over him. “You’ll get worse!”

“Ponta!” the teenager exclaimed in shock, nearly dropping the glass of water in his hands."Natsume, here," he offered the glass to his friend.

“…th…anks...” Natsume croaked hoarsely, his throat horribly parched. He reached out for the glass, only to find that his right arm was held captive.

Natsume looked down, and his eyes widened at the sight before him: his older friend and exorcist slumped over the foot of his bed, his fingers curled around Natsume’s own slenderer hand in a tight grip, dead to the world despite how uncomfortable his position looked. The loose skin under his eyes stood out darkly against the rest of his pale face.

“…when he brought you here, my heart nearly stopped,” Tanuma spoke quietly as Natsume stared at Natori, dumbstruck. The dark-haired teenage boy continued as he stacked a couple of pillows behind his friend’s back and helped him sit without jostling the resting man. “We’re lucky my dad is away on business for two weeks….”

“I remember that,” Nyanko-sensei huffed, “otherwise I wouldn’t have told that exorcist brat to bring Natsume here.”

Natsume chuckled, or attempted to, before he was wrought by a bout of coughing.

“Ssshh,” Tanuma rubbed his friend’s back soothingly before he pressed the rim of the glass against his lips. The water disappeared in the blink of an eye. Natsume didn’t realize just how thirsty he was.

“Seconds,” Tanuma turned his back to Natsume and crossed the room, to where the thermos was. Before that, Nyanko-sensei had hopped over to the bed and settled next to his charge.

“Thanks,” Natsume said again, rather absently this time. “…how long was I out?”

Tanuma must have sensed the shorter boy’s dread. He approached Natsume carefully. “Over three days,” his tone was gentle. At his friend’s stricken expression, he quickly added, “I had given Tohko-san a phone call three days ago…and told her you wish to extend your trip with Natori-san. It had been quite a challenge, that conversation,” Tanuma tried to bring up the mood by making a joke. “Natori-san didn’t tell me anything before he was…occupied.”

Natsume inhaled sharply. Suddenly, he was afraid to breathe; the air felt too heavy. “…And how long had Natori-san…been occupied?”

Tanuma looked like he didn’t want to reply, but at the quiet determination in Natsume’s eyes, he gave in. “Also over three days. He only just finished this morning.”

Over three days of casting spells. No sleeping, no eating, no drinking. Natsume clenched his fists.

“Don’t worry about the suspicious guy,” Nyanko-sensei grumbled as he burrowed himself in Natsume’s blanket. Now that Natsume was facing him, he realized the Youkai was exhausted; the not-cat’s frame was loose like that of a puppet whose strings had been cut, devoid of any tension which must have been inhabiting his muscles before. “You saved his life. He owes you this.”

Natsume frowned. “But sensei-”

He was interrupted by a loud roar originating from his stomach.

Tanuma blinked. Natsume blushed in mortification, while Nyanko-sensei sniggered. There was a pocket of silence, before the three of them laughed.

Natori didn’t even budge.

“Well, you haven’t eaten for three days,” Tanuma smiled, “I’ll get you something, then Ponta and I will move Natori-san to a bed.”

Nyanko-sensei harrumphed. “Why should I help the suspicious guy!?”

“I won’t cook you anything otherwise,” Tanuma countered. It seemed he was quite well-versed with how to coax the Youkai, too.

Predictably, the not-cat followed the dark-haired teenager out.

Peace returned to the room again.

\----------

_What will you sacrifice to me?_

The three-legged raven was majestic, his sleek feathers glowing with his spiritual powers, the colour shifting from pitch black to vermilion and gold in milliseconds one could be lost in fascination just staring at the God. He watched Natori calmly with his beady eyes.

Natori wasn’t stupid enough to offer his hair, or an eye. Natsume’s life was worth more than that. _A shard of my soul._

The bird cocked his head derisively. _A handful of years skimmed off the end of your life, compared to the boy’s entire future?_ [5]

Natori owed it to his years of acting (and exorcising) that he showed none of his fears or frustrations; there were only respect and a polite smile visible on his face. _Then what shall you demand of me?_

The great bird had nothing resembling human lips on his body, but the image of a grin was superimposed on his beak.

_Something dearer than this dear boy of yours._

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Jourougumo: in kanji, literally a ‘binding bride’ or ‘whore spider’. A youkai spider who can take on the appearance of a seductive woman (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jor%C5%8Dgumo). They look like this: http://th07.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/f/2010/073/4/8/Jorogumo_by_Rauliten.jpg  
> 2\. There is no good way to say this in English. It’s an expression of disbelief…like ‘it’s impossible’, or ‘that can’t be true’, but not that long.  
> 3\. Yatagarasu: a three-legged raven or crow (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three-legged_bird). In Japanese mythology the appearance of the great bird is construed as evidence of the will of Heaven or divine intervention in human affairs.  
> 4\. This fanon is based on foxinthestars’ story, ‘Mirror’s Depth’: http://archiveofourown.org/works/600767  
> 5\. The whole idea of ‘Natsume is poisoned and Natori sacrificed something to save him’ was inspired by Puimoo’s story, ‘Bonds’: http://archiveofourown.org/works/299295. In Puimoo’s story, Natori did really sacrifice a shard of his soul.


	2. No guilt is forgotten so long as the conscience still knows of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a quote by Stefan Zweig, 'Beware of Pity'

As Natsume was digging ravenously into his meal (politely, of course; he would never depart from his manners), they were invaded.

A piece of paper flew into the kitchen through the open window. Tanuma looked up from his bowl of miso soup only to dismiss the errant object as garbage barely a second after, but Natsume found the vaguely human-shaped cut of the paper familiar. Before he could recall where he’d seen it before, somewhere in the house, a door was slammed.

Tanuma and Nyanko-sensei were instantly alert. “…That can’t be Natori-san, right?” the dark-haired teenager asked warily as his eyes darted around.

“Too loud. He can’t have recovered his energy yet,” Natsume agreed, every line of his body tense.

Nyanko-sensei kept his head buried in rice, half an eye kept on the door, when his nape suddenly picked up a _strong_ presence. “Natsume!” he jumped to the table, “I sense spiritual pow-”

Before he could finish his warning, someone had barged into the kitchen in a flurry of white and gold fabrics.

It was a middle-aged man, dressed in traditional ceremonial robe of a religious sect Natsume didn’t recognise[1], long dark hair tied to a braid. Though he was roughly Shigeru-san’s height, the stranger looked slightly younger…and more beautiful, if such a word could be applied to men. The beauty was shadowed by how _severe_ he looked, his expression cold as ice. There was an indescribable aura of authority around him, the lines of his face sure and sharp. His frame was slim. His jaws were long and thin, his cheekbones high and defined.

The two teenagers rose to their feet in alarm. “Who are you?” Tanuma demanded.

 _So he’s a human?_ Natsume wondered.

The man glared at them. As though he wasn’t the one who barged in out of nowhere. “Where is Shuuichi?”

“Shuu…ichi?” Natsume repeated, moving his mouth around the name. It felt familiar.

The paper they’d seen flew to his line of sight before dashing elsewhere. He quickly followed.

“Hey!” Tanuma yelled as they chased the intruder, slightly annoyed at being ignored. “Where are you going?”

The door of the room which currently sheltered Natori-san was ajar. Natsume’s heart rose to his throat. He ran to reach his friend’s bed. “Don’t touch him!” the flaxen-haired male threatened as he entered.

The stranger, though bent over Natori-san’s prone form, didn’t seem to intend to harm him. If anything, the hand curved around the unconscious man’s temple looked gentle.

His eyes, however, looked icy as they zeroed in on Natsume. “What happened?” his voice was cold. “What happened to Shuuichi?” it rose in volume as he stepped closer to the flaxen-haired teenager.

 _Shuuichi is Natori-san’s given name_ , Natsume remembered belatedly, and in that half-second the thought occupied the boy’s mind, the stranger had managed to cross the room and buried his fingers in the collar of Natsume’s T-shirt. “What did you do?”

“Natsume!” Nyanko-sensei lunged at the stranger, and he was pushed backward, reeling from the impact.

“You-!” he narrowed his eyes at the not-cat as Nyanko-sensei went between him and Natsume. The intruder inhaled sharply, and his expression changed as he seemed to recognize the not-cat’s scent. “You are a _kemono_ [2]!”

Nyanko-sensei growled and bared his teeth, the rumbling sound entirely out of place with his vessel’s form.

The intruder took another leap backward ( _closer to Natori-san_ , Natsume realized) and reached into the sleeves of his robes. His hands re-emerged with slips of rice papers held between his fingers – _Ofuda_ – charms written in black calligraphy on the white surfaces.

“Sensei!” Natsume tried to scoop the maneki neko into his arms but failed. “Don’t-”

Light began to surround Nyanko-sensei as he prepared himself for transformation. In turn, the man flung his papers to the four corners of the room. They stuck to the pillars near the ceiling.

 _“Powers vested in the Four Winds,_ ” as he began to chant, current-like energy began to emerge from the charmed papers, forming rectangular lines that surrounded them. “ _Enclose us in a barrier, lend us protection._ ” As the lines were rapidly closing in around Nyanko-sensei’s enlarging form, he stretched out his hand. Something slithered out of his billowing white sleeves: amber brown, furry and snake-like. “Come, my bodyguard and master, _kuda-gitsu-_ ”

The day was destined for interruptions, it seemed, because before he could finish speaking, the actor lying on the bed had grabbed the stranger’s trailing robes with pale, tight fists. “Stop,” Natori-san gasped, his lids still drooping. He pressed on, despite how difficult waking must be, to him. “ _Otou-san_!”

“ _Otou-sa-_ ” Natsume repeated in a gasp, his eyes widening in apparent shock. The strangled noise coming out of Tanuma’s throat reflected a similar sentiment.

Natsume could not be blamed for his surprise; Natori-san had mentioned that his mother had died, but said nothing of his father. The stranger didn’t share Natori-san’s colouring, but now that he was looking for it, Natsume could find the family resemblance: the strong curve of Natori-san’s jaw, the almond shape of his eyes, the line of his nose, all showcased on the middle-aged man’s face.

It was just…he looked too _young_ to be the father of a twenty-three year-old.

All manners of movement fled the room abruptly. Everyone was eying each other with some measure of wariness, until Natori gave the cloth in his hand a stronger tug. “It’s not…their fault…” he slurred.

The intruder looked down at Natori-san and, after what seemed like an eternity, relaxed his stance. “All right,” his lowered hand weaved through the exorcist’s hair. “Have some rest,” his voice was soothing, a world’s difference from the one he’d threatened Natsume in.

Natori-san looked like he was fighting against exhaustion, but he was eventually defeated.

As soon as the actor’s eyelids were closed, the intruder’s gaze looked steely and harsh to the teenagers. “Tell me everything,” he commanded, dark eyes fixed on Natsume. Madara growled, but the older man kept his stare on the flaxen-haired youth.

“Sensei,” Natsume warned the beast when Madara rose on his haunches. Carefully, he approached the table in the middle of the room, still maintaining eye contact with the stranger.

Slowly, he broke into a smile.

“I’m Natsume. Natsume Takashi. I first met Natori-san when he visited this area for an exorcism. This is my friend, Tanuma, and the _youkai_ is my bodyguard, Madara. I call him Nyanko-sensei, though,” his smile widened as he introduced himself. “Nice to meet you.”

“Natsume, don’t lower your guard!” Madara huffed, while Tanuma gave a brief nod when his name was mentioned.

Those sharp eyes continued watching Natsume for a while, before the intruder finally bowed from his neck. “I apologize for my rudeness. Nice to meet you. I’m Shuuichi’s father, Sumeragi Satsuki [3].”

 _Were Natori-san’s parents divorced?_ Natsume wondered as he offered, “Please take a seat.”

He did so, reluctantly. Natsume and Tanuma followed. Nyanko-sensei remained in his beastly form, his golden eyes staring at Sumeragi in distrust.

Silence descended upon them again. As Natsume grappled for words, Sumeragi leaned forward. “Your blood has just been purified.”

His senses were very keen. “Yes,” Natsume sighed inwardly, his attempt at pleasantries thwarted. If Sumeragi-san wanted to go straight to the point, he would oblige. “Three days ago, Natori-san was attacked by a _Jourougumo_ while he was on the job.”

Sumeragi listened raptly as Natsume explained what he could remember. When he had difficulty continuing (he didn’t know what happened when he was unconscious, after all), the man frowned. “Shuuichi made a transaction with _Yatagarasu-sama,_ ” he concluded.

Natsume blinked. “That’s correct.” His puzzlement was clear in his expression.

Madara, who watched the conversation, harrumphed. “Anyone who has some knowledge of the other world can come to that logic.”

This wasn’t new. Natsume shot his bodyguard an irritated look. _Not now, sensei._

Meanwhile, Sumeragi unfolded his legs from underneath him. “Tanuma-kun…is it?” for the first time, he referred to the other teenager.

“Y-yes,” the dark-haired teenager reacted with surprise.

Everyone’s eyes widened when a polite smile slipped onto the harsh-faced man’s face. “May I stay here until Shuuichi comes to?”

“Ah…” Tanuma blinked profusely, before the rest of him caught up. “S-sure,” he returned the smile stiffly.

“Thank you,” he bent his head slightly.

“We should be making our way back to Tohko-san’s, Natsume,” Madara rose to his paws, his head hitting the ceiling before his legs were straight. The beast gave the structure a gold-eyed glare before he transformed back to the form of his borrowed vessel in a puff of smoke. “Let’s go!”

“Sensei, wait!” Natsume grabbed the cat’s round tail. “I’ll wait here too.”

“It hurts!” Nyanko-sensei batted the boy’s hand away. “No, we’ll go!” he insisted

“Sensei!” Natsume raised his voice.

But the not-cat wasn’t paying attention to the flaxen-haired youth. His narrowed eyes were zeroed in on Sumeragi. “He is carrying something.”

Natsume recalled the furry snake-like creature that had slithered up Sumeragi's arms after Natori-san’s interruption. Nyanko-sensei seemed very wary of it, but Natsume…didn’t feel an ounce of evil intention from it. “Sumeragi-san is in total control of it,” he voiced out his deduction calmly.

The not-cat looked at his charge like the teenager was dumb.

Of course, Natsume frowned inwardly. Of course, Nyanko-sensei was not scared of the snake-like creature; it might be (was definitely) due to his over-inflated ego, but he naturally feared Sumeragi-san, the human.

There was such a deep-seated distrust between humans and the supernatural.

The thought rest heavy in Natsume’s mind as he sat behind Tanuma’s desk, filling his time with trying (and failing) to do one of the many homework his teachers assigned them for summer holiday. (Thank goodness this incident happened during the summer holiday. Natsume wouldn’t be able to explain three days’ absence from school to Tohko-san, otherwise.) Nyanko-sensei napped at his feet, having tired himself from fuming at Natsume’s firm decision to stay put.

The sun was due to set when he heard noises from the neighbouring room, where Natori-san slept. Soft groans, and muffled conversations. Natsume rose to his feet immediately.

“Go,” gracious, generous Tanuma, unfazed that his house was _invaded_ , tilted his head in the direction of his guestroom. “I’ll heat up some food first.”

Natsume sent him a grateful smile before he literally catapulted himself to the hallways, accidentally kicking Nyanko-sensei awake in his haste. The pet grumbled as he dragged his paws after his human.

Sumeragi was bent over Natori-san as Natsume entered, offering a glass of water to the younger man. The actor was bleary-eyed and passive as he was assisted to his elbows, gradually showing more signs of alertness with each gulp.

“I didn’t dream you up,” Natori-san told the older man. Natsume was a little surprised of how respectful the sentence was structured. Natsume was always polite to Shigeru-san, but he’d never use this much _Keigo_. [4]

The serious man frowned worriedly. “Did you hit your head?”

Natori-san chuckled wryly and shook his head. He’d slept for over ten hours, but the skin of his face still looked sallow and grey, his movements sluggish. He’d gone through three days of deprivation, after all.

The visual reminder caused guilt to burrow in Natsume’s chest.

“Natsume-kun,” the actor noticed him hovering about the doorway. “Come in! How are you?” Every line of his facial expression was warm, but there was concern reflected in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Natori-san,” he approached them slowly, hesitant about encroaching the family’s space. Even Hiiragi, who would in situations like these, not be seen away from her master, was nowhere in sight currently. “No ill effects at all,” Natsume raised his arms as though the gesture could show Natori-san how healthy he was.

“Thank goodness,” Natori-san’s smile widened.

The actor entered into an idle chatter with the teenager, entirely unwilling to dwell on what happened with the _Jourogumo._ Meanwhile, Natsume witnessed Sumeragi’s expression turning graver with the passing of each second.

“What did you give _Yatagarasu-sama,_ Shuuichi?” he demanded, interrupting one of Natori-san’s questions to Natsume.

“ _Otou-san,_ ” Natori-san’s voice was sharp. As was the gaze he sent his way, no matter that his head was bowed at a respectful manner.

The actor didn’t want to talk about it with him present, Natsume realized. The teenager curled his fists against the fabric of his trousers. “Natori-san,” he stated in turn, his stare fixed on the bedridden man.

Silence descended into the room, the only movements coming from the lizard on Natori-san’s skin. Nyanko-sensei watched the interaction with half an eye open from Natsume’s lap, muscles twitching under thin layer of fur.

Natsume prayed that Tanuma wouldn’t enter the room with food, because that was the one leeway Natori-san could solidly latch onto to derail the stalemate and delay the conversation till he and Sumeragi were home, out of Natsume’s earshot. For once, the pressure Sumeragi exerted his surroundings, just from his aura of authority, worked in Natsume’s favour.

“What did you give _Yatagarasu-sama,_ Shuuichi?” the man repeated, unyielding.

Natori-san visibly budged under the weight of his order. His lips were pressed into a thin line before words were let out into the air, seemingly wrenched from his unwilling throat. “Neither my soul nor my powers.”

Those words must have act like a trigger, because in the blink of an eye, Sumeragi had left his seat, toppling the chair he were occupying. The man had Natori-san in a similar position he’d had Natsume earlier, his pale fingers buried deep in the actor’s collar. Sumeragi’s grip was so strong Natori-san’s back was pulled off the bed.

Natsume rose to his feet but he hesitated to interfere as Sumeragi heaved. The middle-aged man’s eyes were impossibly wide. “What on earth did you think you were doing!?” His face was bloodless, his voice trembling with fear. He didn’t look like he was going to hurt his son.

Tanuma chose this moment to blunder into his guestroom, his sight partially blocked by the tray he was carrying. He promptly put it down and crossed the rooms in large strides. “Please calm down!” he requested the older man, his eyes seeking Natsume, as though asking him, ‘what happened?’

Natori-san didn’t look surprised. He didn’t even take a defensive stance.

“You…” Sumeragi leaned forward, looking like he was about to shake or even hit his son, but he didn’t. “You are my only child. The only one sharing my blood! You know that-” his voice was quickly rising as he spoke, full of anxiety and the edges of fury.

“My choices weren’t many, _Otou-san,_ ” Natori-san’s interruption cut through the heated emotions like a knife, detached, cold and steady. “I’m sure you wouldn’t rather…” he trailed off deliberately.

Sumeragi turned to Natsume sharply, shocking the teenager. Natsume’s heart was hammering away under his ribcage when he noticed that the older man’s face was not filled with anger, but apology, and…guilt.

“I-I need-” Sumeragi began to look more caged and less a bomb waiting to explode, his breathing short and fast. The slight middle-aged man bolted out through the door like a force of nature, just like how he had arrived.

The room was in silence, again, like the aftermath of a storm, until Nyanko-sensei snorted, “He’s crazy.”

“Don’t say that about my old man,” Natori-san was back to his friendly self, though his remark had an undercurrent of steel. “He didn’t grow up around people.”

“So he is indeed an _Izuna_ _tsukai_?” Nyanko-sensei narrowed his eyes at Natori-san.

Natori-san twitched. He gave no other outward response.

“ _Izuna_ …you mean worshippers of Izuna Shrine from Mt. Izuna at Kamiminochi-ken, Nagoya?” Tanuma quipped as he returned to the mess that was the overturned food on his floor. [6]

Natsume blinked at the taller teen. “You’re so knowledgeable.”

“I’ve only read it from one of the magazines my father subscribes to…” Tanuma blushed. “I thought they are just hermits and priests.”

Nyanko-sensei laughed at Tanuma. “Well, better of you humans to think of _Izuna_ and their users as harmless, than the powerful force those foxes can be.”

“The foxes as familiars thing is real?” Tanuma’s eyes were shining with interests.

Natsume looked at his friend, then his bodyguard, then back to his friend. “I don’t understand…” his eyes landed on the professional exorcist. “Natori-san, please explain.”

As expected, the actor tried to deflect. “Ah, Tanuma-kun, would you happen to have more food in your kitchen-”

“Natori-san!” Natsume raised his voice. “I won’t rest on this, I assure you!”

“ _Izuna_ is amongst the strongest, but also one of the most difficult familiars,” Nyanko-sensei droned in boredom, “One cannot just beat an Izuna into submission or a contract. Once a pact is formed, the Izuna, and all the rituals that come with them, are for life. And to be inherited by the user’s bloodline.”

“Which means…Natori-san will be the Izuna’s master?” Natsume asked, still confused on how it all linked together.

“I sure hope not!” the not-cat humph-ed. “It all depends on the Izuna. They’re really picky; they only like beautiful humans.”

Tanuma was still curious. “What happens if the rituals aren’t continued for life?”

“Izuna is presided over by _Dakini-ten_ [6].And humans are stupid if they think they can ever abandon a God,” the not-cat jumped to Natsume’s lap, forcing the teenager to sit levelly. “Gods are not known for their mercy. They are, however, fair,” his feline eyes leered at the man in the bed, “and payment for saving a life can only be equivalent to a life.”

Natori-san’s jaw muscle jumped.

“Natori-san,” Natsume pressed the actor a third time, his heart in his throat. _Is Natori-san going to die soon?_

The exorcist only smiled at the teenager. “Don’t worry, Natsume-kun. Like I told _Otou-san_ , I didn’t give _Yatagarasu-sama_ anything of my soul or my powers. My lifespan is in tact,” he laid his hand on the younger male’s hand and spoke soothingly.

Natsume’s question was still unanswered. “But what else is equivalent to a life?” he insisted.

Natori-san looked at the nightstand. No doubt, he was looking for his glasses, so that he could hide his gaze behind the glint of the accessory, like he’d done so many times before, Natsume thought.

Well, Natsume was patient. He could play this game forever.

Eventually, the older man sighed. “What’s equivalent to a life…is my ability to conceive future lives.”

There was a beat. And a loud laughter from Nyanko-sensei. “T-the sketchy guy, _impotent_?”” the not-cat guffawed, bent over in amusement he was struggling through breaths.

“Sensei!” Natsume had never found himself sound this angry.

The loss alone and in itself was… ** _terrible_**. Until Natsume remembered that the Izuna demand continuity of worship through bloodline.

The teenager was frozen with fear and guilt, so much guilt. “What happens if _Dakini-ten…_ ” He was reminded of _kitsune-tsuki_ – possession by the fox [7]. Natsume knew enough to never dismiss anything of the mythical, because while most modern citizens (disbelievers) wouldn’t suffer an ill-effect of a myth disobeyed, people like Natori and him would not be spared.

“I would do it all over again, Natsume-kun,” the older man tightened his hold on the flaxen-haired teenager’s hand, pulling his attention on the bedridden male. “Because I know you would give up anything to save me. And I am the better equipped one to have negotiated such transactions. _Yatagarasu-sama_ could have demanded all of your lifespan, all your powers or all your memories, and you would be none the wiser.” [8]

The teenager trembled like a leaf. He cleared his throat, and the sound just reeked of distress. “But what about-”

“Otou-san and I would think of a solution,” Natori-san was calm and strong, just as he was staring down his father’s wrath.

The growl of the man’s stomach was a timely interruption.

“Now, Tanuma-kun,” the smile the actor shot the darker-haired teenager was nothing short of his on-screen smile, dazzling and charming. There was no crack in his armour.

Natsume buried his fingers in his thigh, and swore. _I would do my best to help them._

And the ‘bond’ was further cemented.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The robe is supposed to be of Izuna Gongen. But Natsume doesn’t recognize it, and this story follows his POV.  
> 2\. Literally, a beast. But ‘kaibutsu’ can also mean a beast. ‘Kemono’ (獣, ケモノ) refers to animal characters in human-like setting, and is the word used in the Japanese version of Natsume Yuujinchou (I’m not aware if any Eng dub ver exists or not).  
> 3\. Satsuki is written as ‘皐月’ the archaic kanji for ‘May’ (as in the fifth month). Double fifth (5th May in the lunar calendar) is celebrated as Children’s Day, as well as summer season’s festival. The sun, which represents masculinity (Yang), is strongest during the summer solstice. Hence, the summer solstice is considered the peak annual moment of male energy. Since my writing is very much influenced by CLAMP’s works, and CLAMP often uses significant dates for powerful spiritual workers’ names (Watanuki = 1st April, Tsuyuri = 7th May), I decided to use dates for my OC’s name as well.  
> 4\. The infamous Sonkeigo-Kenjougo. Japanese speak with their social superiors differently, using respectful forms (i.e. Sonkeigo) to elevate the superior’s actions, and humble forms (Kenjougo) to deprecate the speaker’s own actions. You hear this most often in department stores, and sometimes even in Natsume Yuujinchou anime itself. I remember one of the youkai announcing himself as having arrived, ‘mairimashita’. The basic verb is ‘kimasu’: to arrive. In Kenjougo, the verb becomes ‘mairimasu’. And in Sonkeigo, the verb is ‘irassaimasu’. Yeah, this annoys the hell out of me as well. And to think that these two are just subdivisions of a more intricate set of ‘interacting across different social strata’ of Japanese, the whole set simply referred to as Keigo. As I am studying for JLPT N3, I only need to know Sonkeigo-Kenjougo…but God bless me when I need to ‘move up’ to N2 and eventually/maybe-if-ever N1 eh…  
> 5\. As mentioned by Tanuma. More can be read here: http://eos.kokugakuin.ac.jp/modules/xwords/entry.php?entryID=193 But most of the interpretations of Izuna users in this fic are derived from xxxholic Rou.  
> 6\. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dakini  
> 7\. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsune#Kitsunetsuki Aren’t you getting a Shinto101 from me haha.  
> 8\. The central idea of the transaction is a life. Losing all his powers would cost Natsume his life with the youkai, and losing all one’s memories is equivalent to losing one’s current life, because your memories make you who you are. Besides, CLAMP made an entire story based on the premise of losing one’s memories (Tsubasa Reservoir) and it’d impressed on me that the memories of a spiritually powerful person, like Natsume, are not ‘just’ memories.


	3. Strange Priorities and Stranger Requests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on a roll. BUT I just realized something…in Season 1 Ep 9, the first time Natsume met Natori, it was mentioned that Natori’s mum died. WHOOPS. So now I’m backtracking to rewrite Sumeragi as Natori’s father. Don’t be shocked to read in this chapter that Sumeragi Satsuki is MALE.
> 
> Natori’s character background is also a little inconsistent. At first, it was implied that Shuuichi was born to a normal family, with his uncles – plural, per manga translation Vol 2 Ch 7 – accusing Shuuichi of bringing misfortune to his family due to his spiritual abilities. But later, Season 2 Ep 11, Shuuichi mentioned that his family have been famous exorcists since the past, and in Vol 13 Ch 52, Shuuichi mentioned that Natori-ke is an ‘outdated clan’ who had once given up practicing (hence dubbed the ‘runaway clan’ in the exorcist community) because for a period of time, nobody born in the family had spiritual powers until Shuuichi. Now, I’m assuming even if Natori-ke is an ‘outdated clan’, they still secretly hope that someone with powers will be born and carefully store old texts for that future person's learning (otherwise how else could Natori have learned of the paper shiki art), and those ‘uncles’ wouldn’t call Shuuichi a curse – they would be worshipping him for his spiritual potential (unless of course those uncles are jealous). So yeah. This inconsistency. 
> 
> As human, I fell prey to the ‘time fallacy’ – having stronger memories of recent occurrences – so the image I maintain of Natori-ke is they are highly similar to Matoba Ichimon, but not as big or calculative.

 

As far as Natsume knew, Natori-san had no siblings.

Hiiragi told him when Natsume had asked, during one of those downtime when they were researching for a job of Natori-san, Nyanko-sensei gone off to god-knows-where since morning and the exorcist having told Hiiragi to accompany Natsume. Natsume didn’t feel patronized or overprotected, because Natori-san had Urihime and Sasago with him. Hiiragi and Natsume were chatting in their way to the woods to gather information from the local youkai (it was Natori-san’s specialty to be charming to human strangers; the spirits are Natsume’s) when the topic came up.

Natori-san was the next in-line to be Natori-ke _Toushu_ (Head of Natori Clan) [1], Natsume had gathered from Hiiragi. And it all started from Natsume observing the bags of dark skin under Natori-san’s eyes, an innocent comment, ‘why is he working so hard?’

Despite his quick ascent to fame, despite his natural talents at acting, Natsume knew what Natori-san considered his full-time job was the one he held off screen.

“Hold on,” Taki backtracked as Natsume told him what happened with the _Jourougumo_. For Natsume to help Natori-san form a solution, he needed to rely on Tanuma and Taki, who were better acquainted with the academic side of the spiritual. Nyanko-sensei had refused to be of any assistance, and Natsume was sure Natori-san didn’t want to spread his condition to more youkai like Hinoe.

“Sumeragi, you said?” Taki gaped.

“Yes,” Natsume blinked in puzzlement. “What’s…”

“Sumeragi-ke is the most powerful clan of Onmyouji in Japan!” the extroverted girl gushed, before her enthusiasm dimmed, a little. “Or, shall I say, ‘was’. I heard that since Sumeragi Subaru, the thirteenth _Toushu_ , passed, there were nobody left in the main branch of the family for the mantle to be passed on to. Due to the political powers the clan has amassed since Tokugawa, the current _Toushu_ is serving in the government, but the clan no longer practices Onmyou-jyutsu.” [2]

Natsume frowned. “Natori-san’s father is spiritually gifted.” _Very much so_.

“Oh, but he is a practitioner of the Izuna Myoujin, right? Most likely one of his ancestors was adopted into the clan, before the Sumeragi gave up practicing,” Taki commented as she flipped through one of the books in the massive collection her grandfather amassed. “Such people are considered ‘outsiders’ and cannot be appointed _Toushu._ They are mainly taken in to assist exorcism. And for…” she paused, her face turning sour.

“What?” Natsume seldom saw that kind of expression entering his sunny friend’s face. It was a little terrifying.

“Breeding,” Taki almost spat the word out. She looked visibly upset. “Since industrialization, practitioners are dying out. Spiritual powers pass on by blood; you most likely have your ability because your grandmother had it. Anyways, one can tell that those clans are becoming desperate. They take in anyone who can secure them powerful successors.”

Natsume understood. He’d been propositioned to join those clans before, by both Natori-san and Matoba-san. And he had the luxury of being able to decline.

Sumeragi probably could not, the teenage boy realized with a pang. He was still relatively young, he could not have been twenty when Natori-san was born.

And now the bloodline was endangered, Natsume thought bitterly.

Natsume stayed at Taki’s for several more hours before he forced himself to come home. It was late afternoons. Natsume could tell that Tohko-san had missed him for his four days’ absence. She heavily hinted that he should return early today.

But it seemed Natsume’s guardian was distracted off her loneliness, the teenager realized as he entered the house, announcing loudly, “Tadaima!”

There was a pair of geta on the porch. They looked expensive, and Natsume couldn’t recognize them.

“Okaeri,” Tohko-san emerged from the guestroom. As guessed, she had someone over. Her cheeks were flushed pink in a way they always did when she was energized by company. “I’m sorry it took me a while to welcome you.”

“It’s fine,” Natsume smiled at her, and almost choked when he saw the figure behind his guardian. Speaking of the devil… “Sumeragi-san,” he exclaimed in shock.

The man was dressed in an elegant kimono, his appearance portraying him as nothing but a respectable man from a traditional family.

Tohko-san looked surprised at the way he greeted their guest. “He isn’t Natori…?”

“I was married into the Natori clan, Fujiwara-san,” Sumeragi explained charmingly. Natsume was shocked even further by his demeanor. He’d never come across as anything but antisocial, before, a product of his upbringing as a hermit, Natsume had realized.

(Well… Natori-san’s talents must have come from somewhere, right?)

“Besides, I told Natsume-kun to address me as such. ‘Natori’ is reserved for my son, it seems,” Sumeragi added.

Tohko-san laughed. “Ah, our silly Takashi-kun, he should just refer to your son in his given name. They get along very well!”

Natsume blushed, just thinking of it. Sumeragi merely responded with a small nod.

Natsume reacted with enthusiasm as Tohko-san showed the pottery Sumeragi had brought along as a present, first insisting that its value was too great. The two adults politely shoved the bundle toward each other in an ordinary social interaction typical to gift-giving, until Tohko-san accepted graciously.

“Oh, I’m sure you have things you want to talk with our Takashi-kun,” Tohko-san mentioned as she retreated to the kitchen. “Let me not disturb you anymore.”

“ _Shitsurei shimasu_ ,” [3] Sumeragi bowed to the woman, before finally, he was left alone with Natsume.

Natsume stared at the back of the man’s neck, the stiffness of his shoulders. Silence passed between them before the teenager cleared his throat. “Well…” he trailed off.

“I’m sorry that you had to see something embarassing,” Sumeragi stated without turning toward Natsume.

“Ah, no…” _I might have reacted that way, too, if the future of my family is on the line_ , Natsume thought. The teenager walked to the table on the centre of the guestroom. “Please take a seat.”

The middle-aged man followed the invitation. They sat opposite each other and sipped tea quietly, Natsume on the edge of his seat. Twice, he thought about inquiring after Natori-san’s health, but he stopped himself in his track.

“I assume you have knowledge of what…my son had lost,” Sumeragi’s steady voice cut through the deafening silence.

Natsume refrained from wincing. He bent his head, hiding his expression, and nodded.

Sumeragi frowned at himself before he continued. “I’m here…to inquire, no, to request,” he looked agitated.

Natsume gulped.

“To request…if you would be willing to lend a hand to solve our issue,” the man finally managed after a pause.

A myriad of emotions passed through Natsume’s mind, mainly that of wonderment (they’d found a way already? So soon?) and of…relief. It almost took him all he had not to jump to his feet and volunteered his help straight away. “Of course,” his reply was so sure.

“You don’t understand,” Sumeragi’s dark eyes sought for his. Natsume was taken aback, indignant that the man thought so little of him. Sumeragi must have seen something, because the man quickly pushed a thin, old book toward his host. “Take a look first.”

Natsume flipped through the tabbed pages, and he was glad that he was already seated.

Because what he’d read there _blew his mind_.

“What…” he blinked, his jaw hitting the floor.

“I’m sure you’re aware that the number of spiritual practitioners is declining, every single day,” Sumeragi’s words were familiar. They were a rephrase of what Taki told him earlier. “But this is not the first time this kind of situation has arisen. Each time a war took over the lands, Japan was left with much less bloodlines of spiritual practitioners. And women did not survive well through the chaos.”

“But…” Natsume still couldn’t believe his eyes. The mere idea.

Of conceiving lives without a woman’s womb.

“I’m sure you know that you are powerful.”

Natori-san and Matoba-san had mentioned several times.

The non-sequitur threw Natsume off. “What does that have to do with…”

“Both participants of this ritual have to possess considerable spiritual powers, otherwise this would not work,” Sumeragi’s gaze was strong and steely. Untiring. “There are not many such men. And it is impossible for me to have another child. My position is that of a wife married into the Natori clan. Though we may be ‘runaway clan’, we still adhere to archaic traditions.”

“I…” the thought was so out of the world Natsume couldn’t seem to grasp the extent of the absurdity. Of the request. “I...just turned seventeen.”

“I was around that age when Tomoe was pregnant with Shuuichi,” Sumeragi remarked, confirming Natsume’s suspicion. “And the carrier would of course be Shuuichi.” _Because it was impossible for him to take the other role, now._

Natsume, though, could hear the unspoken statement clearly. “I…” he put the book down, afraid that he would accidentally tear the frail thing to shreds, and shook his head as though it could clear the mess of thoughts in his head. As expected, it was futile. “Natori-san is an actor,” he blurted the first thing that came to his mind.

“Shuuichi is aware this is probably the only option he has to have a successor with his, our, bloodline,” this time, Sumeragi was completely calm, while Natsume fell apart at the seams. “He is also looking for a potential donour.”

Natsume gritted his teeth in distress. He felt untethered, his grasps on reality slipping away. Suddenly, he wished Nyanko-sensei was with him, the need sharp and palpable. “T-this is not natural…” he…was he hyperventilating?

“Well, we are dealing with the supernatural, aren’t we?” Sumeragi could not fully reign in his frustration, it leaked out of the end of his sentence, the preciseness of his consonants.

Natsume squeezed his eyes closed. “I am not ready to be a father!” he screamed with his breaths, fully aware that he could not let his voice out lest Tohko-san hear. His fingers scrabbled at the wood of the furniture.

“You don’t have to be-”

Before Sumeragi could finish, Natsume had rose to his feet. “I will never abandon any child of mine,” his voice was cold as his glare at the older man was burning. He no longer cared that it was inappropriate to showcase such boldness to older men. 

Sumeragi accepted the brunt of his feelings, his anger, before he sighed. “I see.”

He sounded…disappointed.

The emotion washed over Natsume like a bucket of iced water, sobering him.

Reminding him.

“I know it is too much to ask of you,” Sumeragi reached out for the old text, “I will approach the Matoba Toushu with this proposal instead.”

Natsume winced inwardly. The Matoba clan…possibly the most calculative, heartless family of exorcists there could be in Japan. Matoba Seiji would exact a fair payment for his trouble.

Not to mention that the Matoba Ichimon would then know of Natori-ke’s vulnerability… [4]

“Wait,” before he realized what he was doing, Natsume already had his fingers curled around Sumeragi’s wrist, stopping him from taking away the book. “Wait,” he was breathing harshly, like he’d just run a marathon.

Sumeragi watched him in anticipation, waiting patiently as eternity passed around them.

“Let…let me think about it,” Natsume couldn’t promise anything yet.

Sumeragi nodded, his expression shuttered.

Natsume could tell that the older man was trying not to let his true feelings out, and Natsume was grateful. But at the same time, the closed off look hurt him. The teenager too, was disappointed. In himself.

(Deep down, he knew…he was sold.)

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In Natsume wiki, it’s mentioned that Natori is the head of his clan…http://natsumeyuujinchou.wikia.com/wiki/Natori_Shuuichi but in the anime Season 2 Ep 11 the youkai were referring to him as Natori no waka-sama (young master), not Toushu. In any case, in this story, Natori is the Toushu but in name. As soon as his grandfather retires or pass away, he would assume the title. Until then, he was spared some of the ceremonials.  
> 2\. I have no idea when CLAMP’s fictional Sumeragi clan started becoming powerful, but if Subaru is only the 13th head, then they couldn’t have been very old!  
> 3\. Another hard to translate expression. Literally means ‘I will be rude’, but can be aptly translated to ‘excuse me’. http://japanese.about.com/library/weekly/aa012801a.html  
> 4\. From the wiki, I also gathered that the manga portrays Matoba Seiji in a positive light recently, what’s with him writing a long letter to Natsume (and the manga probably ships MatobaxNatsume, what’s with gearing NatorixNatsume to the realm of brotherly). http://natsumeyuujinchou.wikia.com/wiki/Matoba_Seiji Ugh but I don’t like Matoba full stop! NatorixNatsume ftw!


	4. Time is the longest distance between two places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a quote by Tennessee Williams, 'The Glass Menagerie'

When he was a child, Shuuichi thought his father didn’t love him.

No, father was head over heels in love with mom. There was always a tender look on the young man’s face when he watched her. But Shuuichi couldn’t recall having seen father direct that expression to him.

Shuuichi had always been detached to the man who sired him. Natori Satsuki was an alien in the Natori clan’s main house. [1] He was often away in the mountains or at the Sumeragi’s clan main house, or simply ‘working’. At that age, Shuuichi didn’t understand that meant taking exorcism requests on behalf of the Natori clan.

When father was home, he had to defer to Shuuichi’s grandfather and uncles, mom’s older brothers. They always showered Shuuichi with little bits of affection, praises and toys for his good efforts. Shuuichi admired his uncles and thought of them cool. He wanted to be like them after he’d grown up (and not like his powerless father).

Father had a beautiful fox, though.

The creature was majestic, his fur amber brown – almost gold – and sparkling, streaked with red illegible marks, his multiple tails long and bushy. Most of the time, the creature was a fluffy snake curled on father’s forearm or leg, snuggled against Satsuki’s pale skin, so close like he was trying to burrow under, squeaking happily like he was where he belonged. On rare occasions, the fox would lounge across the room, draping lean body next to Shuuichi’s mom, his long muzzle nuzzling father’s lap, purring as he was petted.

Shuuichi used to scrutinize the gecko skittering under his own skin, the hope that it would materialize in real life as a beautiful dragon, like the fox, conquering his fear and disgust.

One day, Shuuichi could not hold back anymore. “May I touch him?” he asked father.

The thin young man merely stared at his kid inexpressively, but Shuuchi recognized his surprise. Was it that rare of him to initiate a conversation with father?

It was mom who spoke. “Touch who?” she looked puzzled.

He stared at her in bafflement. “The fox.”

Her dark maroon eyes widened. “You…can see the fox?”

“Of course…” Shuichi began to feel uneasy. The thought that she might not be able to see the fox had never entered his mind.

Mom turned to father, and as the two were communicating silently, the fox raised his head and rested his paw on Shuuichi’s hand, slit-like depthless eyes staring straight at him.

From the corner of his eyes, Shuuichi saw father observe them with pursed lips, his dark eyes troubled, before he looked away.

The revelation spread like wild-fire, and before Shuuichi knew it, his uncles had switched to treating him like a diseased, mad cow – with distance and disdain. Shuuichi’s mom had smiled at him, but the curve of her lips were so sad she might as well be crying. Only his grandfather, the current clan head, was pleased as punch. The old man had slapped Shuuichi on the back in good cheer, laughing, “He will bring the Natori clan back to our former glory, I know it!”

Father hesitated, thoughts seemingly warring within his head for a second, before he stepped forward. “About Shuuichi’s learning…” he brought up.

“He’ll learn the Natori clan’s paper shiki arts, of course,” Grandfather shut his son-in-law off straight away. “We have enough preserved texts in the storage. There is no need for you to have a hand in it.”

Father bent his head. “Of course,” it was a while before he echoed.

Not long afterward, mom died.

“…misfortune,” Shuuichi heard his uncles and aunt-in-laws whisper loudly, their gazes accusing.

Father had pulled Shuuichi into his arms and hugged him tightly. “Don’t listen to them,” the man’s voice was hoarse and scratchy with grief against his ears.

Shuuichi pressed his face to father’s black _haori_ and returned the hug. [2]

He didn’t dare to see the man’s expression.

(He was afraid to find _hate_ on the face of the man who loved mom so much.)

\-----------

_Natsume was standing on a path filled with Sakura trees._

_They stood in rows, branches hanging low. Strong gusts of wind seemingly came out of nowhere, surrounding him in a flurry of pink petals. Natsume raised an arm above his eyes to prevent them from blocking his sight._

_“Let’s go!” Someone had took his other hand, small fingers curled around his own fingers in a tight grip, and pulled him headlong. “Hurry!”_

_It was a little girl, her voice high-pitched and her words rounded, the way toddlers’ voices were wont to sound. The wind blew her shoulder-length caramel hair back, tickling Natsume’s arms._

_Natsume ran after the little girl breathlessly. “Wait!” it wasn’t easy to run with his torso bent forward due to the difference in their stature. “Wait please!”_

_The little girl chuckled. “You’re so slow!” his whine was filled with so much energy. She turned around and Natsume was greeted with large round maroon brown eyes, twinkling at him with laughter with the Sakura petals between them. “Hurry!” she tugged him forward, “Otou-san-”_

Natsume woke up with a gasp.

Nyanko-sensei grunted as Natsume unintentionally dislodged the not-cat from his perch on a corner of the teenager’s futon as he woke. “It’s too early,” the cat groaned and batted at his charge blindly, his slanted eyes still firmly shut. “Go back to sleep…”

Natsume couldn’t. Each time he closed his eyes, he recalled the little girl’s face, like her image had been burnt to the back of his eyelids. The shape of her eyes. Natori-san’s lips and irises on her. The dream was too vivid.

There had been occasions where Natsume could dream the future. They came true within days, however, and most of those instances involved _Ayakashi_.

Natsume didn’t know if the little girl in his dream was a premonition, or simply his subconscious projecting an image to his mind.

“Takashi-kun, you look unwell,” Tohko-san commented as they sat together for breakfast, her kind face brimming with concern. “Were you not able to sleep? Was it too humid? Shall I have another fan brought into your room?”

“Ah, no,” Natsume was always quietly overwhelmed by how rapidly the older woman could speak. “It’s my bad. I was reading a novel and lost track of time.”

“Takashi-kun!” Tohko-san pouted, “A growing boy needs enough sleep!” she nagged.

“Tohko,” Shigeru-san said calmly once she had gone on for a couple of minutes, “it’s summer holiday. Cut Takashi some slack.”

“Datte…” Tohko-san directed her pout at her husband instead.

Natsume smiled at his guardians. He didn’t mind the nagging; on the contrary, he felt cared for.

Besides, Natsume had stayed with many families, seen many couples interact. The dysfunctional ones, the indifferent ones, the explosive ones. To him, what the Fujiwara couple had – warm, supportive, steady – was perfect. If he were ever to marry, he would strive to have this kind of relationship with his wife.

“What time did you promise to meet your friend? Tanuma-kun, was it?” Shigeru reminded him.

“Ah!” Natsume was always running late, it seemed. “I’ll get going!”

“Stay safe!” Tohko-san sent him off as Natsume quickly slipped his feet into his sneakers.

The teenager was running along the woods of Yatsuhara when he had goose bumps on his nape.

The suddenness caused Natsume’s heart drop to his gut. He was sure there were no malicious youkai near Yatsuhara, because Tanuma’s monk father performed purification rituals regularly in the area.  

But then, why…?

A growl tore through the air, and in a flash, a golden fox emerged from the bushes, sharp teeth gleaming from its long muzzle. There was a nekomata trapped in the fox’s jaws, hissing and lashing out with everything it got. There was something wild in the cat’s eyes, something unhinged.

“Hold it still, _Kinseki_!” [3] Natsume heard a familiar voice speak, and before long Sumeragi-san arrived, slips of ofuda firmly held between his fingers.

Natsume was surprised to see the middle-aged man. “Sumeragi-san-”

The practitioner’s concentration was solely on the deranged creature, though. He began to chant. “ _Beings tainted with evil-”_

Before he could finish, the cat yowled and managed to wriggle out of his captor’s hold. The nekomata lunged at Natsume, sharp claws bared at him. Caught unaware, Natsume could only raise his arms to protect his face and his torso.

“Natsume!” Nyanko-sensei jumped, his temple glowing, but he wouldn’t make it. The distance was too great.

A slip of ofuda intercepted the nekomata and Natsume, causing the cat to recoil to the nearest branch of tree, deft feet scurrying away.

The fox growled again, a deep rumble from within its throat before a red glow appeared in his mouth. Fire shot out of his muzzle, heading straight at its target, and the cat dropped to the ground, partly singed.

Natsume was awed. What…a powerful beast. He belatedly realized the fox must be the Izuna familiar Nyanko-sensei was telling them several days ago.

The teenager watched as the nekomata, immobile on the ground, was still hissing and spitting at the exorcist as he approached.

Unexpectedly, Sumeragi’s severe face melted to a kind smile. “You won’t have to wait long,” he whispered.

As sutras flowed from the practitioner’s lips, ofudas floated around the cat, bathing it in blue light. Natsume was blinded for a moment, and when the supernatural lights dispersed, the nekomata was asleep, its face peaceful.

Sumeragi picked it up from the ground and cradled it to his chest. “Kinseki,” he called his familiar.

The fox howled and dug the ground with its long claws, seemingly gravelling.

Sumeragi looked unamused. He only extended his forearm to the creature.

The fox slumped, before it transformed to a thin furry snake and slipped into Sumeragi’s kimono sleeve.

“Good job,” the middle-aged man told the snake nuzzling his cheek. The familiar looked nothing short of enamoured to its master. “I’ll reward you with some aburaage.” [4] Sumeragi’s face softened again, a tender expression one would show a beloved.

Natsume quietly observed the practitioner – the man who, like Natori-san and Matoba-san, could see the same scenery as him, and had his life affected significantly by the spirits. Where did he stand? He couldn’t be like Matoba-san – Sumeragi-san certainly didn’t see his fox as a replaceable tool. Was he liked Natori-san, who was trigger happy to exorcise a spirit as long as it represents a threat to humans? Natsume’s curiosity couldn’t be quelled. “Sumeragi-san, what are you…”

“As you can see, this little one was tainted,” Sumeragi looked down at the unconscious nekomata. “Revenge makes ayakashi highly dangerous. The same with humans.”

“But I thought…” Natsume turned in the direction of Tanuma’s house. “The temple…”

“The ‘blind’ monk?” There was nothing derogatory in Sumeragi’s tone. It was akin to that of someone describing the weather. “Sometimes a blunt spiritual force like the sutras he chants causes a spirit to be trapped or hurt or both. The anger, anxiety, all manners of negative emotions fester till the spirit becomes something else. Once it has killed a human, it can never return to who it was.” He sighed. “Countless bake-neko and zashiki warashi have turned astray through carelessness.” [5]

Hope filled Natsume’s chest. “Sumeragi-san-”

“Natsume-kun,” the teenager was interrupted, “do you know how to protect yourself from youkai?”

Natsume blinked. “I…Nyanko-sensei protects me.”

Disapproval entered Sumeragi’s face. “And when the inugami isn’t with you?”

“I hit them,” Natsume replied.

Something like wonderment entered the older man’s expression. “You may be strong enough to dispel spirits with physical combat,” it was quickly gone in a frown, “but what if you encounter spirits you can’t touch? Spirits made of fire or poison? What if it’s not safe to enter their arms’ length?”

Natsume had no words to say. He knew he’d been extremely vulnerable when Nyanko-sensei was recovering from the fiasco with Matoba-san and the woman who collected youkai’s blood.

Sumeragi sighed at the silence. “I’ll teach you.”

Protests bubbled in Natsume’s mouth. “But-”

“Defensive spells only, if you want,” Sumeragi’s face was harsh when he spoke to Natsume, “This is not for you. This is for the people around you. This is for Shuuichi, who considers you a friend. I don’t want him to sacrifice anything else to bail your life out of danger.”

The words stabbed Natsume’s heart like a knife, twisting his guilt till he had no arguments, no fight left. “…All right.”

Sumeragi nodded. “Cancel your schedule today.”

\----------

Shuuichi shot up from his bed with a gasp.

It’d been so long since he dreamt of the past. Of mom, and his uncles’ sneers.

Of father’s distant regard.

As an adult, he had no doubt that father cared for him. Father went into a passive aggressive war against grandfather when Shuuichi expressed that he wanted to be an actor by day and his grandfather sparked an uproar to oppose him. Father guided him when he just began taking exorcism requests, always staying in the periphery, only swooping in before Shuuichi got seriously hurt.

But Shuuichi always wished he could have been _more_.

“Master,” Urihime appeared at his bedside.

“What is it?” the exorcist-cum-actor got up to get some water to drink.

“Your father,” the long-haired familiar reported per his command, “he visited Natsume.”

Shuuichi exhaled a heavy sigh. “My old man did something troublesome, eh?” A headache was building in his skull. He rubbed his eyes. “Continue watching him.”

“Yes, master,” Urihime bowed and vanished.

“He means well,” Hiiragi mentioned from her perch at the corner of the bed.

Shuuichi ignored her unprompted frank opinions. She was always going to butt into his life disrespectfully, a sarcastic mother hen.

…Shuuichi found he didn’t hate that.

“He’s still troublesome,” the exorcist responded to her remark.

Yep, that’s his life in a nutshell.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. ‘Alien’ here means foreign. Foreigners residing in Japan have to register for ‘alien’ card, I kid you not. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_registration_in_Japan  
> 2\. Kimono overcoat: http://www.kimonosource.com/japanese_kimono_information/about_haori.htm  
> 3\. Kin = gold, seki = red. I’m unimaginative haha…  
> 4\. Deep-fried tofu: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aburaage  
> 5\. Based on the anime ‘Mononoke’: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mononoke_(TV_series)


	5. We don't get to choose what is true. We only get to choose what we do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a quote from Kami Garcia, 'Beautiful Darkness'

_"You've known all along, haven't you?"_

_The woman in the bed whispered at him, her voice paper thin. Her maroon brown eyes were red-rimmed, lips pale and chapped, tangled tawny hair plastered to sweaty temple._

_A hand came into view, gently wiping the sheen off her bloodless skin. "Don't exert yourself," the ground on which he was lying on vibrated with a familiar sound. A chin partially blocked his view._

'I'm looking at Kinseki's memories,' Natsume realized with a jolt. He belatedly remembered learning lines of defensive spells from Sumeragi-san before they decided to practice on the field. Which meant Kinseki repeatedly leaping at him.

_The woman broke into a wan smile. "You know it's no use."_

She's…Natori-san's mother. The resemblance was unmistakable.

_"I don't see everything in my dreams, Tomoe."_

And that…must be Sumeragi-san's voice. And he must have tensed, because Natsume felt a little stretched. Kinseki wriggled to make himself more comfortable around Sumeragi's shoulder.

_The woman's eyes glazed over. "When you told me that you want to marry me, a woman eight years your senior, because we'd have a beautiful boy together," she reminisced, "you know these would happen."_

Silence followed the sentence. Sumeragi was no longer denying, despite the broad pronoun adjectival. Natori-san's mother could be referring to anything.

_"Sorry for my selfishness."_ The fragile quietness was finally broken. There was so much sadness packed in those few syllables.

The sick woman looked fierce, all of a sudden, energy filling her face. " _Don't,"_  she raised an arm to touch Sumeragi's face. Her eyes were so expressively spilling with love, it seeped out to her voice, her gesture, everything she was. It was hard to associate this woman's honesty to her son, who hid behind various degrees of smiles, Natsume didn't even know if he could label each of them.  _"I don't regret any single moment with you and Shuuichi. Do you?"_

The cadence of her question was stable, unwavering. There wasn't a single trace of doubt.

Because it wasn't a question.

_"Never."_ Sumeragi encased her hand with his fingers, his whole arm shivering from the strain of keeping his hold light. In contrast, his voice was brittle and weak, heavy with unshed tears.

Her smile was like the last rays of sunlight before dusk, the flame of a candle burning bright at the end of its wick.

_"Thank you for finding me, Anata_." [1]

* * *

 

"Natsume-kun? Natsume-kun?" Sumeragi was shaking him gently when the teenager came to.

Natsume looked up from what must be the practitioner's lap. He quickly rose to his bottom. "I'm fine," his cheeks burned with embarrassment. Nyanko-sensei, blessed him, served as a distraction as he berated 'his human' for being sloppy with his defense spells.

Sumeragi was still staring at him. So raptly Natsume felt uneasy. "I'm really okay," he reassured the older man.

"…You were crying," Sumeragi pointed out.

The teenager touched his cheek, and it was indeed wet.

Panic bubbled in the teenager's chest when he thought of how to best answer Sumeragi's probing look. He'd peeked into one of the older man's most intimate memories, after all. Then, there was also something the man had said. '… _see everything in my dreams…'_

"It was just a bad dream!" Natsume said quickly before the other male could speculate further.

Everything of Sumeragi, from his stance to his raised eyebrow, said he didn't believe the teenager (really, how had Natsume become so  _bad_  at lying?), but he decided to drop it.

Sumeragi gave Kinseki an absent-minded pat when the creature whined at his side. "…Do you want to continue?"

"And continue what, exactly?"

Natsume squinted against the sun, shining at his full intensity above them, to see their interrupter, and was surprised to see Natori-san's unmistakable figure getting nearer and nearer.

"Otou-san," his cold tone was at odds with his respectful body language when Natori-san greeted the older exorcist.

Sumeragi frowned at his son.

The curve of Natori-san's lips were the same as the one he'd shown Natsume when he found out that Natsume were pretending to be Houzuki-gami in the moon-splitting festival: patronizing, yet motivated by his care for the (wayward and reckless, Natsume added in his mind) teenager. "You've been having secret dates behind me, Natsume-kun? How cold!" he joked.

Natsume had known the actor long enough to know that Natori-san's first line of defense, when he wasn't sure of his footing, were the sparkles and his flirtatious teasing. Natori-san had a back-up of composures he could put on reflexively. The wreck within him – if there were any, that is – would  _never_  be seen.

"We didn't purposely leave you out," Natsume, in return, gave the actor his best not-cute deadpanned expression, like always. Natori-san never seemed to get how much Natsume hated those line-ups of masks, after all.

Natori-san laughed at the teenager before turning to his father. "Otou-san, I'd like to discuss something with Natsume-kun in private."

Sumeragi furrowed his brows deeper.

"Nanase-san didn't dismiss me straight away."

The sentence would seem like a non-sequitur, until Natsume remembered what was on offer between Natori-ke, who wasn't part of Matoba's confederation of exorcist families, and the Matoba.

Natori-san didn't give any reaction. Outwardly.

"Matoba Seiji might have made his derision for families desperate for an heir who can see spirits be well-known, but no one forgets that he, as well as his relatives who did not get to be Toushu, are all a product of carefully arranged marriages. He may not want to miss the chance to have a successor of Matoba and Natori blood for himself. Or demand that the Natori clan join the Ichimon," Sumeragi went on and on, despite Natsume's pleas for him to stop in his mind.

"That's enough," Natori-san's voice was forceful, and he had stopping speaking in keigo. "We'll be taking off." The taller man grabbed Natsume's wrist and dragged him away before Natsume could protest to the treatment.

Natori-san didn't speak until they were away from the open clearing in the middle of the woods, where Sumeragi remained. Natsume were watching the muscles of the actor's jaws twitching so intently he bumped into the man's shoulder when he finally stopped. "Natori-san-"

"Natsume-kun," Natori-san rendered the teenager speechless with a single look. He tended to do that, Natsume wondered absently, recalling a panicked moment deep in the wells of Omibashira's maze, a dizzying fear of having to  _leave_  the one place he wanted to stay at forever. [2]

The actor sighed, the smile on his face a sight Natsume hadn't encountered before. It was complex: a little fond, not marred by sadness, but not happy and definitely not a front. "You know, one of your friends…the tall, more serious one, who often accompanies Nishimura-kun. Kitamoto-kun, I believe."

The sentence…wasn't what Natsume had expected at all. "Yes?" he sounded as lost as he felt.

Natori-san's chuckle turned to that closer to amusement, before he shook his head and the incomprehensible expression settled again. "He'd asked me, to my face, what a movie actor would want to do with an ordinary high school boy." [3]

_Like me and you_ , the pronouns went unsaid, but Natsume understood.

Warmth bloomed under Natsume's ribcages, spreading under his skin till he was suffused in gratitude. For the serious Kitamoto, Natsume's self-appointed protector against sketchy guys who might take advantage of him.

"Did he?" Natsume smiled. The teenager didn't need to ask Natori-san what his answer was. He trusted that the older man wouldn't have said anything incriminating.

The actor watched Natsume's expression and sighed in exasperation, like the teenager didn't get what he was trying to say. "You know that I did want you as my assistant."

That was old tune to Natsume by now. "We're friends," he remarked. "Above anything else. We help each other."

"Precisely," Natori-san grabbed the teenager's shoulders. "I don't want anything from you."

His harsh tone startled Natsume. For a moment, he was hurt. "What…"

"In return to siphoning Jourougumo's poison, I mean," the exorcist clarified right away. He looked out of sorts, which was rare. Natsume only glimpsed moments of weakness like this when Natori-san didn't have enough sleep. "In the first place, you only got hurt because you were shielding me…" the man rubbed his face with one palm before facing the teenager head on again. "Don't let my father guilt you into anything you don't want to do." Maroon brown eyes narrowed.

Natsume's first reaction was mortification. Natori-san had often told him he was naïve, perhaps even easily manipulated by the youkai. The warm thankfulness returned to him too, however. Natori-san, like Kitamoto, was just trying to look out for Natsume.

Natsume smiled at his brotherly figure, and squeezed one of the hands on his shoulders. "Thank you, Natori-san." The expression was soon replaced by sobriety. "Precisely because I know you don't have any intention to demand anything from me…I should give it some consideration."

The two of them engaged in a silent stare-off, Natsume observing the struggle behind Natori-san's bespectacled gaze, before finally, the older man sighed. "You always do what you want," his defeated tone was accompanied by a fond curve of his lips, the lips that had smitten countless women through the silver screen [4].

Natsume replied it in kind.

* * *

 

_That night, the little girl visited him again._

_Only, not so little. She was a teenager slightly younger than Natsume's current age, long straight tawny hair tied to a braid, resting on her sailor-uniform-clad torso. Her colourings were mostly Natori-san's, but the structure of her face was one Natsume found himself staring at in the mirror each morning, when he brushed his teeth._

_They were in Tohko-san and Shigeru-san's house living room. Natsume was seated since the beginning of the dream. She entered and sat in front of him, peering at him before acknowledging his presence. "Otou-san."_

_Natsume was disconcerted. It was bizarre. He decided to just confront his confusion head on. "Are you my imagination?"_

_"This is your dream. I'm visiting," the girl explained calmly._

_Natsume blinked. "You're from the future?"_

_Her brows furrowed. She paused for a while before settling for a cryptic reply. "'Time' in dream world doesn't flow the same way it does in reality…"_

_Natsume didn't understand…but he could sense that her spiritual powers were…very strong. Stronger than him. "Why are you visiting?"_

_She busied herself with the teapot at the centre of the table, pouring a cup for herself, and a cup for him. "To try to endear myself into getting born," she finally said, a shy smile peeking out of her lips. Natori-san's thin Cupid's bow lips._

_For the first time since she appeared, the girl looked like an unsure adolescent, instead of a mythical epitome of calmness and mystery incarnate._

_Natsume returned her smile with a welcoming one, before his hesitance leaked out to his face. "What will happen if I don't choose to have you?"_

_Maroon brown eyes looked alarmed and distressed. For a moment, Natsume wanted to reassure her, but she hid her emotions quickly and shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know. May be I will be born to Papa and a different dad. May be to a different set of parent entirely. May be I won't exist."_

_The last possibility disturbed Natsume, somewhat. Even if she was a stranger to him, still._

_Silence enveloped them until she ventured out again, her voice soft. "You'll be a great dad, Otou-san."_

_Natsume blushed at the compliment. He looked down at the table again, wondering if he should ask the question niggling the back of his mind, before deciding to throw caution out of the window. He clutched his cup of tea._

_"Are you happy?"_

_Her eyes widened, like that wasn't the question she'd been expecting from him. Soon, a grin broke out of her pretty face. "Yes, I am. Very happy."_

_Natsume released the breath he didn't know he was holding when relief flooded his chest._

_At the same time, the room around them began to waver._

_"I have to go," she rose to her feet, "one's subconscious cannot accommodate an intruder for very long." [5]_

_Natsume felt a pang of loss at that. "What's your name…?" he asked belatedly, wanting to have something to refer her to in his head._

_"Natori," she replied as she waved, "Natori Reiko."_

And the dream crumbled.

TBC

Review please!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Anata: Dear (a wife to her husband)
> 
> 2\. Based on Vol 13 Special 11, Natsume told Kitamoto he didn't want to go anywhere. A little context: compulsory education in Japan is only up to junior high school. Senior high school students have career counselling to decide the top three univs they want to apply to, or to work after graduation, or to drop out. From Anime S3 Ep 13, we know Sasada aims to study in Univ. Nishimura talks about going to univ in the manga as well, because he wants to 'get out of here (suburb in the middle of nowhere)'. Natsume's emotional response to these was 'I don't want to go anywhere', but the sentiment is more like 'I want time to stop right here' rather than 'I want to stay in the suburb for life'.
> 
> 3\. This scene happened at Puimoo's story, 'Bonds', available on AO3.
> 
> 4\. The silver screen is a type of projection screen used in the early years of the motion picture industry. It comes from the actual silver (or similarly reflective aluminium) content embedded in the material that made up the screen's highly reflective surface. Now silver is no longer used, but the word remains.
> 
> Speaking of old terms, sometimes I wonder when the universe of Natsume Yuujinchou is set. Neither Natsume nor any of his human high-school friends seem to have mobile phones. We even saw Natsume and Natori use public phones in the anime. I can understand if Natori refused to carry a mobile phone as a precaution to being cursed via electronic means, but 21st century teenagers not carrying smartphones? A bit unbelievable, don't you think?
> 
> 5\. Inception FTW haha


	6. The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt.
> 
> A/N: this chapter has LONG notes. The first one is: Natsume, you're such a fandom bicycle! He is mostly paired to one of these four guys: Matoba, Tanuma, Natori or Madara. The last one is…well, Madara has no human canon form (unlike, say, Hakutaku from Hoozuki no Reitetsu), and Madara had shown that his instincts were closer to that of a beast, so it feels a little like bestiality. I distrust Matoba. Tanuma/Natsume seems to be the Japanese fans' top OTP, what's with the number of fanarts and doujins on them. When I browsed zerochan or doujin scanlation communities, I got depressed coz there are very few Natori/Natsume (N2 or Natnat haha. This OTP name should be 'Nutty'). Tanuma is sweet, considerate and kind to Natsume, but… (here I go, trying to explain my OTP)
> 
> 1\. Natsume lives in two worlds, right? The youkai's and the human's. The Yoshiwara couple, Nishimura, Kitamoto and Sasada belong firmly in the human side. Matoba, Hinoe, ko-kitsune, etc in the youkai side (why Matoba is here…Natsume only deals with Matoba when youkai is involved). Madara, Natori, Taki and Tanuma are in the intersection. Within the intersection, Madara is closer to the youkai (he is only tethered to the humans by Natsume), and Tanuma and Taki closer to the humans (they had close to no spiritual powers). Natori is the only one perfectly in the middle.
> 
> 2\. Tanuma is left out of much of the spiritual world. Natsume would have to constantly worry about defending Tanuma from ill-willed youkai (where else Natori knew how to protect himself). This will trouble the relationship, one day (Tanuma feeling frustrated for being over-protected, useless, etc). Tanuma/Natsume isn't like Doumeki/Watanuki. Doumeki isn't ill-affected by the youkai, for one. Also, Doumeki could only be fully helpful to Watanuki after they shared one eyesight. I don't foresee the 'sharing eyesight' to happen to TanuNat. And being possessed for a long period for Tanu to see spirits can't be healthy.
> 
> 3\. Natsume and Tanuma were too similar in personality – gentle, quiet, don't want to impose on others. Natori knew how to be extraverted and when to be forceful on others. I'm of the mind two people of different personalities make a better couple.
> 
> Of course, Tanuma and Natsume are closer in age, see each other more often, etc. Natsume is more at ease with Tanuma because he and Tanuma didn't have the kind of differing views Natsume and Natori are having wrt the youkai. Out of all his friends, Natsume is most honest with Tanuma, I think. He did tell Tanuma about Reiko in manga vol. 14 ch 57. In contrast, when Natsume cried in his sleep during the onsen trip, he didn't tell Natori anything. After Tanuma becomes a monk, he and Natsume can live quietly in the suburbs, adopt a kid, idk. Very domestic. N2 couple would most likely run around exorcising youkai and Natori is a busy man with two jobs, after all. I imagine TanuNat would be a quietly close couple, where else N2 would be a more passionate couple who met less often.
> 
> I don't intend to spark off a ship war, btw. Just mentioning my opinions. To each, her own.
> 
> But please, mention what you think in the review :).
> 
> On to the story!

 

Before this, Natsume had never thought so hard about his future.

He used to live day by day, all his energy spent avoiding spirits who threatened to eat him, fighting to stay awake in classes so he wouldn't have to repeat the grade (and wasted his guardian's money), trying to stay in one place and not get shipped to another relative who didn't want him around anyways.

To protect his heart (and his sanity), Natsume had told himself he wouldn't sink down any roots, and dreaming of a future was the sort of subconscious imagination that would leave him vulnerable, prone to sinking into despair when the rug was pulled from underneath his legs (again), so he'd guarded himself against hope. At nearly any cost.

Survival was key.

(Natsume never let himself question for what, either. Once he did, he knew it would be his end.)

The kindness of the Fujiwara couple had slowly melted his shields, though. And Natsume was beginning to let himself think that it was okay. Okay to daydream of staying in this house for years, going on trips with Shigeru-san and Tohko-san, celebrating birthdays. The first few times, Natsume had to stop himself from panicking (or punishing his mind). Now it was as natural as breathing.

(And how light his chest had felt.)

Still, the furthest Natsume had thought of his future was whether to stay in high school or drop out and work. He hadn't even thought of what kind of occupation awaited him. Procrastination was a terrible fiend, and the Fujiwara couple genuinely wanted Natsume to continue studying. When Natsume brought home the form his career counselor had handed out in class earlier [1] and insinuated that he started earning some income, Tohko-san was aghast. Natsume still had one year to finally live as a teenager, and he fully intended to enjoy the present as much as he could.

Which brought him to his current dilemma.

"Just turn the fox-guy down," Nyanko-sensei sighed as he chewed on one of the dried squids Tohko-san had bought as snacks for the family. "The suspicious guy told you himself you're under no obligation to 'repay' him."

Natsume sighed, his fingers tapping restlessly on his wooden desk. If only it was that simple. Now that he'd met Reiko-chan…

The words of his worksheet blurred in front of his eyes.

_My homework is a goner._ Natsume mourned.

Having a kid. What a preposterous idea. He never even thought if he'd ever marry. Heck, in his entire seventeen years of life, Natsume had never even wanted someone as his girlfriend (or boyfriend, on that matter). His spouse would have to be someone who was aware of what he could see and could understand what he went through. Someone who wouldn't mind having others gossip of how weird Natsume was. Someone like Taki, like Tanuma.

Like Natori-san.

Natsume shook his head. Natori-san didn't need someone to marry now (though he might, in some indefinite future), he just needed a spiritually gifted male who would…sow a seed into the actor's body.

Natsume's face turned beet red.

Natsume had never been sexually attracted to anyone. To the point he wondered if he were an asexual (on top of being a freak; oh, joy). Late bloomer or not...Natsume knew that Natori-san was a sight for sore eyes. The sparkles he involuntarily made appear around him aside, the exorcist was a famous actor. Many women swooned at the sight of him. Even Tohko-san thought Natori-san was handsome.

Natsume didn't disagree.

To wrench his head out of the gutter, Natsume thought of Reiko-chan instead. The child of Natori and Sumeragi bloodline. The child Natsume would name.

_"You'll be a great dad, Otou-san."_

She'd said that. But really, how much would Natsume even be in her life? What was needed of him…was nothing more than his participation in the ritual, and his DNA. Not that Natsume would ever abandon any child of his. His skin crawled with the mere thought.

But…what would he, Natori-san and Reiko-chan have? Two single parent connected by a child, like one of the families Natsume had stayed with in his long history of transfers? Or would Natsume just play the role of an 'uncle' in substance, while Natori-san was Reiko-chan's primary caretaker?

How could he explain this to Tohko-san and Shigeru-san?

_Would he still be able to bear the secret of the book of friends from Natori-san?_  [2]

There were too many questions. And they wouldn't get answered just by sitting here, letting them mesh and muddle till Natsume couldn't pry them apart into logical threads anymore.

The only way to know is to take action.

* * *

"Visit my family's house?"

Natori's puzzlement was apparent from just the tinny voice from the phone speaker.

"Yes," Natsume confirmed. "Not your apartment," he added, just so Natori-san couldn't wiggle out of this.

"…Why?" the actor sounded apprehensive. "Don't tell me you…"

Natsume didn't let his friend finish his sentence. "I want to read more about ayakashi from your storage rooms," half lies were convenient things.

There was silence from the other end, before a sigh could be heard. "All right. Natori main branch's house is located at the suburbs of Kumamoto city. My shooting schedule is a little tight right now…how about next Tuesday?" [3]

"Okay," Natsume felt slightly more accomplished.

"…Natsume-kun," Natori-san began, but no words were forthcoming.

Natsume waited. "…Natori-san?" he inquired when the quiet dragged.

"Ah, nothing," Natsume could see Natori-san's smile from miles away, the mask that'd become a defense mechanism to the actor, an expression he put on when he wanted to reassure himself. "I'll pick you up from your house next Tuesday. See you!"

Natori-san's tone was cheerful, but Natsume knew his heart was anything but. He wished he knew what to say to put his friend at ease. "See you."

The wait would feel very long indeed.

* * *

Natsume couldn't help but stare.

"So vast…" his jaw was nearly hanging open in awe.

That was an understatement, still; the Natori main branch's estate was sprawling. If he thought Takuma-san's house was spacious, well, Natori's estate was larger than the house Matoba-san had once forced him to go to, larger than the Yatsuhara shrine.

"It's all old money," the actor shrugged. "Elite exorcist families have maintained connection with politicians since the dawn of time. They are a highly superstitious bunch with money to burn. Though right now, Matoba Ichimon holds the monopoly. My acting job pays better," he sighed airily, the kind which typically ended with sentences like, 'the world just can't get enough of my sparkles.'

As usual, Natsume ignored it. He placed a hand on the huge wooden door. "Shall we?"

The garden was large and filled with many trees, but the most impressive thing was the building. Three-storeys and wide, it could shelter not just one, but perhaps even three, four families.

And it didn't look empty. Just as the three of them stepped in, a little girl stopped on her track as she crossed the short path to the porch, brown hair tied to two ponytails. Her eyes sparkled as they landed on Natori-san. "Uncle!" she dashed and wrapped herself around his legs.

Natori-san smiled at her and picked the toddler up high. The girl giggled as she was lifted to the sky. "Up, up!"

Natsume had only seen this children-loving side of Natori through the TV screen before. At that time, the teenager thought it was just an act.

"Kayoko-chan!" A middle-aged woman emerged from the building, and stopped short at seeing Natori-san. She hesitated for a second before bowing at the younger man. "Shuuichi. Welcome home." There was distance in her greeting, but also respect.

"I'm back, Aunt-in-law," the easy smile on Natori-san's face didn't falter as he approached his relative. He handed the toddler to the woman.

Natsume followed the actor to the main door of the house, but Nyanko-sensei stayed rooted to his spot. He was bristling at the porch, his fur raised high. "Your house feels so unpleasant!" he yapped.

The middle-aged woman flinched at the talking cat, but Kayoko-chan looked fascinated. "Uncle, uncle, is it a youkai?" she asked enthusiastically.

Natori-san laughed. "Yes, Kayoko-chan," he replied shortly before turning to Nyanko-sensei. "The main house is very tightly protected with barriers and spells. I almost forgot," he took out a slip of paper from his pocket, and pasted it to Nyanko-sensei's back. "With this, the house won't recognize you as foe. All my shiki keep a similar charm with them."

"Argh, it itches!" The not-cat tried to swat at the sticker with his too-short paws. "Natsume! Sewa ga yakeru! [4]"

As Natori-san and Nyanko-sensei interacted, the woman retreated slowly. "Shuuichi, there is somewhere I need to be," her discomfort was very transparent in her voice.

"Ah, please don't let me stop you," Natori-san's pleasant smile was uninterrupted. He waved in return when the toddler waved her hand at him energetically. "Hope to see you again, Neko-chan!" she yelled in rounded, childlike consonants.

"My mom's oldest brother's wife and one of their grandchildren," Natori-san answered the question in Natsume's stare.

"Haa…" Natsume followed the actor absentmindedly as he walked deeper into the house. "She's very friendly towards you. I was under the impression that your uncles, they…" Natsume stopped when Natori-san halted in his track.

"Natsume, how did you…?" the exorcist looked taken aback.

The teenager had said too much. "…When I come into contact with an ayakashi," he revealed reluctantly, "sometimes I catch a glimpse of their memories. When you were about to exorcise Hiiragi…when we just met, I saw her memories of you when you were a child…."

Natsume's voice was small when he ended. He kept his gaze on the floor, afraid of facing Natori-san's reaction. This horrible breach of privacy…

"I see," Natori-san didn't sound angry at all. "Well, many of the elders don't have good opinions of my ability to see, but children are more impressionable. And it helps that my grandfather, the current Clan Head, is a huge supporter of this ability." He started out nonchalant, but by the end of the sentence, something darker was lurking beneath his tone.

Natsume was always tripping all over Natori-san's feelings, lately. "Kayoko-chan…her parents are also here?" he tried to change the topic.

"Her parents are lawyers. They live in Tokyo." The two of them started walking again, Nyanko-sensei trudging along warily behind them.

Natsume frowned. "They don't live together…?" He knew DINKs – Double-Income No-Kids families – had been on the rise, but having children and leaving them to the grandparents'…

"They do, sometimes." At the teenager's puzzled look, Natori-san expanded, "grandfather is probably the only family member who lives here permanently. The rest only come here…" he paused.

Natsume tilted his head.

"For protection against youkai, right?" Nyanko-sensei sighed. "This must be the most heavily guarded house you have. Even with this annoying sticker, I still have goose bumps." The spirit narrowed his eyes at a ceiling. Upon closer inspection, Natsume noticed that it has an ofuda stuck to it. And there were many corners with similarly hidden spells.

"The master said rightly," Natori-san shrugged, "Some of the charms have vaccination-like lingering protective effects on humans, so they come here periodically."

"Idiot! So I will be repulsive to other youkai for months!?" Nyanko-sensei lunged at the actor and latched his claws on the man's shirt.

The exorcist flinched. "I said on humans!" he pulled on the not-cat's face, stretching the skin, "get off me, buta-neko!"

"What's happening?" the noise must have disturbed other people in the house, Natsume realized, when an old man emerged from around the corner. For someone who seemed like he must be over sixty, the old man was of good stature, tall, thin and broad-shouldered. "Shuuichi?"

Natori-san let go of Nyanko-sensei and bowed at the old man. "Ojii-san."

Now that he was looking for family resemblance, Natsume noticed that the elderly man had dark maroon eyes and Natori-san's nose. "Konnichiwa," Natsume picked Nyanko-sensei up and bowed at Natori-san's grandfather as well when he noticed them.

"Shuuichi, who are they?"

"Ah, this is Natsume. Sometimes he assists me in my exorcisms," Natsume noted the precise way the actor spoke. Truths that alluded other impressions.

They were truly like-minded liars to understand each other's tricks.

"Is that so?" the Natori Clan Head looked at Natsume warmly, his smile hospitable. "Thank you for helping my grandson in his work."

"Ah, no…" it was surprisingly hard for Natsume to maintain his smile to the old man. It was clear that he was so proud of his grandson, and far from 'helping' Natori-san, Natsume had just dragged Natori-san into a complicated circumstance.

Guilt was making a home out of Natsume's heart.

"Now, I'm going to be late for my appointment," the old man was, indeed, dressed in a fine tea-dyed kimono, suitable for going out. "Please treat this place as though it's your home." He gave Natsume a nod before trudging on his way.

Natsume was glad when the old man disappeared from view. Before the teenager could feel bad from having that thought, Natori-san had wrapped his fingers around Natsume's wrist. "Come on, the cat is impatient. Also, the storage rooms are big, so the earlier we start, the better." The actor pulled the younger male forward.

Natsume wondered if Natori-san was trying to distract him. Whatever the reason, he was grateful.

They navigated through what seemed to be a maze of corridors before they arrived.

And indeed, the storage rooms are  _huge_.

Natsume barely stepped foot into one of them, and was greeted by rows of tall (nearly floor-to-ceiling) shelves, packed to the hilt with stacks of papers and scrolls, yellowing around the edges. The space smelt of sun-dried musk, rays of light filtering in through the ventilation reflected against the glass of Natori-san's watch. [5]

"So," Natori-san pulled the stairs perched next to the door closer to him as Hiiragi appeared and helped them switch on the light. "Where shall we start?" his smile looked proud.

Natori-san knew almost every nook and cranny. He remembered where the scrolls on ayakashi were, the books on different types of the arts – spells, sutras, charms, contracts, symbols – Natsume only needed to voice out his curiosity, and he'd get the text after some rummaging.

There was a whole new world opened by the texts. Spirits Natsume had only known by his senses, there was so much knowledge behind their behaviours. Why they acted a certain way. Natsume was scared of reading the texts kept by exorcists because he didn't want to read about how to murder the ayakashi. But from the way words formed praises around the creatures Natsume had sometimes befriended, not all of the authors had detested them.

And Natori-san…he was like an ayakashi Wikipedia [6]. When the teenager told the actor, the latter chuckled. "I spent my teens buried here, absorbing pages after pages," he remarked as he absently caressed the spine of the book he was holding. "Sometimes, Otou-san recommended some to me."

Natsume closed his eyes, lulled by the nostalgic quality of Natori-san's voice, and imagined him as a boy, tucked away between old scrolls instead of charming school girls like a fish breathing in water. Natsume imagined Reiko-chan growing up in this house, surrounded by many cousins and centuries old knowledge to aid her inheritance. A great grandfather who spoilt her rotten. A kind, handsome father.

The childhood he'd always dreamed for.

"Matoba Ichimon has a more impressive library. Don't repeat this in front of Ojii-san, though." Natori-san's comment brought Natsume back to reality.

The teenager smiled. "Natori-san, you're surprisingly a nerd."

The laughter that left Natori-san's mouth were so…free. Natsume didn't think he'd heard such sounds from the older male before. Not even from the movie screen. Natori-san's amusement always appeared suave in his various roles. "Really, now," the exorcist was laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The lizard skittered across Natori-san's face as he spoke, and rested below the curve of his bottom lip.

Natsume stared at it, before he remembered to look away. Sometimes, he still did not know where to lay his eyes on Natori-san's person.

And they've known each other for over a year.

Natori-san must have mistaken Natsume's sudden pre-occupation on the page before him as puzzlement. "Hmm, what is it?" he leaned over the shorter man.

Natsume looked up to tell his friend that it was nothing, only to find Natori-san's face hovering way too close. This near, Natsume could see almost every line of his face, the slight bent of his nose to the left. Those reddish brown eyes seemed so open it was hard to think that Natori-san was keeping anything from Natsume.

Yet, Natsume still had the yuujinchou hidden by the small of his back.

"Natori-san," the teenager didn't know he could sound so serious.

For once, the actor stepped back and returned the somber expression, no flirtatious words mentioned. "Yes?" his voice, too, was free of the silky 'butter-won't-melt-in-my-mouth' affectation the actor had taken on like a second skin. [7]

Natsume had come to a decision. His heart could not, would not be rested until he personally saw to Natori-san's dilemma.

Natsume made sure his gaze was straight before he voiced out his determination. "I will lend you my hand."

Natori-san sighed. He didn't need to ask for the context of Natsume's declaration. "This is not a job that would go smoother with your assistance, Natsume. This has a future repercussion. Long, breathing, live repercussion."

"I know," Natsume fought his natural inclination to throw his gaze. He could not let Natori-san see that he still had doubts about this, himself. He trusted Natori-san. He trusted the older man's kindness, his willingness to understand what Natsume found important. Natori-san had let him keep secrets, pulled out of jobs Natsume was queasy with, disused juutsu Natsume disapproved of. Even if parenting a child as two single males – abnormal, spirit-seeing single males – was a path filled with questions, Natsume had faith that Natori-san would make it work for them. "I know."

Natori-san stared long and hard at Natsume, searching his soul. Even after a long while, he still looked unconvinced.

'Do a better job, self!' Natsume frowned. "I saw…our future child in a dream. She…visited me."

That changed Natori-san's facial expression, at least. His eyebrows disappeared in his bangs.

That quickly returned to concern, however. "Natsume…" the older man reached out a hand, to his hair or his shoulder perhaps, Natsume thought.

The teenager refused to let himself be coddled. "Even if she was just my imagination, I would still do it."

Natori-san crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "You…might have to 'sacrifice' a lot of first experiences with me, Natsume. First experiences you should savour with someone else you will cherish, later in your life."

"I already had my first vacation trip with you, Natori-san," the thought came unbidden to Natsume's mind. The sentence might be inappropriate for this situation, but the memories of that short trip brought a smile to the teenager's lips. "You are important to me, Natori-san. I want to care for you. [8]"

Natori-san's eyes widened in surprise. His hand landed in Natsume's hair regardless, long fingers musing the teenager's locks horribly as the exorcist laughed. This laughter didn't sound as uninhibited as his previous one, but it was not superficial either. Natsume could not read into it.

"You're always so honest, Natsume," Natori-san teased. "Normally your frankness isn't cute, but this time it is."

The teenager blushed. "…too bad."

"No need to apologize," the actor's smile became gentle. "Thank you, Natsume." He sounded earnest.

And Natsume…Natsume was always happy when he could be of help to people he held dear.

TBC

Review please!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Repeated note from chapter 5: in manga Vol. 13 Special 11, Kitamoto was pondering if he should drop out of school to work as a civil servant to ease his family since his father fell sick. Compulsory education in Japan is only up to junior high school. Senior high school students have career counselling to decide the top three univs they want to apply to, or to work after graduation, or to drop out and start working right away.
> 
> 2\. I just read Vol. 15. It has many Natori-Natsume interactions, so please read it! I'm glad to see that it's in line with what I've written so far wrt the shiki-master relationship, the relationship between Natori and Natsume (they care deeply for each other), Natori's self-exploration of his family's storerooms. So that's a relief! Haha anyways, I decided to not make the book of friends an important point of plot of this fanfic…because I am sure Midorikawa-sensei has something in store for this, but I have no idea what it is. Since I prefer to be canon-compliant, I will not shoot my own toes. Sumeragi was an exception haha. Coz I needed him to be guilt trip Natsume.
> 
> 3\. Utterly made up. Hitoyoshi as the city Natsume lives in is canon, so I just try to find a big city nearby.
> 
> 4\. This is a phrase Nyanko-sensei often say in the Anime. Literally means 'I'm troubled (because of you)!' or 'it's troublesome to look after you!' The Japanese saying is more characteristic of Nyanko-sensei haha.
> 
> 5\. This image is inspired by the cover page of chapter 61: manga/N/Natsume_Yuujinchou/chapter/61
> 
> 6\. More like google, but again, I have no idea when Natsume Yuujinchou is set. Wikipedia is older than google.
> 
> 7\. You know, in the anime season 2 ep 3, when Natori was inviting Natsume to the onsen. His tone was so…pretentious. 'Onsen, suki kai?' 'Isyo ni ikanai kai, onsen ryo-kan?' He added 'i' to every 'ka' (the particle that marks a question in Japanese language), and even the 'kan' of 'ryo-kan' sounded like it had an extra syllable! It's like girls who took on a different tone when they talk to their boyfriends.
> 
> When Natori was serious, (e.g. season 2 ep 13, the Kai arc) he didn't use that tone. You know, when he said, 'Soro soro kimetara douda?...Hito ka, youkai ka?' (Natsume, how about you decide now? Who's more important to you, humans or spirits?), there was no 'i' behind 'ka' thing. May be I was wrong and '…verb + kai' has a grammatical purpose. In any case, Ishida Akira-san sure knows how to sound ostentatious.
> 
> 8\. This sentence makes more sense in Japanese. 'Natori-san wa ore ni totte daiji desu. Daiji ni shiteagetai.' 'Daiji ni shiteagetai' is hard to translate.


	7. As if you were on fire from within/The moon lives in the lining of your skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is borrowed from Pablo Neruda.

Even after Natsume let his resolve be known to Natori-san, nothing happened for a while.

“Summer is the Obon season, [1]” the exorcist had told him before they left the Natori clan’s main estate, “with so many spirits around, it is less safe to hold a highly charged ritual like the one Otou-san suggested. Let’s wait till fall.”

Natori-san was still trying to buy them time, it seemed. For another solution to be found, maybe. Or for Natsume to change his mind.

The former would be welcome, but the latter was impossible.

Natsume spent the last two weeks of the summer holiday catching up on his homework. He was always at Taki’s or Tanuma’s, part of a make-shift study group that was sometimes joined by Kitamoto. Sasada and Nishimura had already started preparing for universities’ entrance exams.

“That’s…fast,” Natsume remarked when he heard that the two wouldn’t be joining them for the matsuri on the 15th of August, the height of the Hungry Ghost month.

“Depends on how competitive you are,” Taki shrugged. “I have relatives living in Tokyo who started prep school in first year of senior high school.”

Natsume had never felt connected to people like them, though he’d stayed with relatives who sent their sons to elite private academies before. Their worries were completely different.

The flaxen-haired teenager hesitated before he asked his friends. “How about you guys? Any plans to…?” he left the question hanging. A year ago, they could postpone the answer with a laugh, but Natsume’s haven in Hitoyoshi, which had seemed endless, didn’t seem so now.

“I’ll be working,” Kitamoto was the first to share his future plans, his answer firm. “After I’m used to my work, I may look into part-time courses.” He was the most academically sound amongst them four after all, Natsume noted. His family circumstances were really regrettable.

“Hmm…I’m still thinking,” Taki bit into her mechanical pencil. “There is a degree in folklore I am interested in…one of the faculty, Professor Doumeki, is a renowned name in the field.” [2]

“Folklore? You didn’t look it, Taki-san,” Kitamoto appeared a little surprised.

Unexpectedly, Tanuma also perked up. Although for a different reason. “Folklore?”

“I have the brochures, if you want to see them,” Taki took in her fellow student’s interests, “I suppose, if you were to inherit the temple from your father, knowledge of Buddhism and folklores would come in very handy.”

“I’ll be really grateful,” the black-haired tall teenager smiled widely at her.

Kitamoto turned to Natsume as Taki left to retrieve the reading materials. “How about you, Natsume?”

Natsume couldn’t answer for a long time. The thought of studying wasn’t appealing to him, even if the subject was essentially the youkai. He preferred to understand the ayakashi by interacting with them, imparting memories on each other. Also, college wasn’t cheap. “I will probably be working,” he finally said, sounding as unsure as he looked.

“Oh,” Kitamoto grinned at him, “don’t worry. We still have time.”

When the sun nearly set and it was time for dinner, the three guys left Taki’s home.

In the quiet of the deserted road, the sky a myriad of gold, vermilion and violet hues, the street lights flickering to life beside them, Tanuma abruptly blurted. “How’s…Natori-san’s problem?” hesitance was literally dripping from each syllable.

Natsume did not anticipate this from Tanuma. He’d only met the exorcist inside Omibashira’s mansion, and Natsume didn’t think Tanuma’s impression of the exorcist was all that good, really. “Why…?”

“He saved me once,” the taller teen looked uneasy. “Is it…something I shouldn’t ask?”

Natsume pursed his lips to a thin line. Technically, it was Natori-san’s affair, private in nature…but Natsume’s involvement was Natsume’s right to share with a friend, especially such a close friend as Tanuma, who had guarded Natsume’s other secrets with a tight lid.

The flaxen haired teenager inhaled deeply. “We have a possible solution on hand.”

Sensing his friend’s reluctance, Tanuma raised both hands in reconciliatory gesture. “Natsume, you don’t have to…”

“No, Tanuma, I want to,” Natsume put his hand over one of the taller teen’s hands.

His explanation was quick and vague, glossing over the spiritual details, but the gist was covered.

The two stood in the middle of the street in silence after Natsume finished. The sky above them had long since lost the sunlight.

Tanuma looked overwhelmed. “He…you…a child…”

Natsume waited patiently till his friend was coherent again.  

“A child,” Tanuma settled on that train of thought, “You’ll be fathering a child.”

Natsume stiffened. He knew this would be the point his friend would be most concerned of. In a way, Natsume was asking for Tanuma’s opinions, but… “I’ve thought this through, Tanuma.”

The dark-haired teenager looked at his companion in disbelief. “You’re seventeen. Natori-san is twenty…what, twenty-two?”

“Twenty-four,” Natsume corrected.

“Still a little young to be a father, don’t you think?” Tanuma looked dismayed. [3]

“He may not have it any other way,” Natsume felt ill to be reminded of this.

The sentence seemed to have packed a punch to Tanuma, too, from his expression. “Could the two of you, perhaps, wait? Until you’re twenty, Natsume?”

He sounded like a birth control councilor from a developing country. The sudden thought made Natsume amused, but he stifled it. “We don’t know if this will work. I suppose we are giving ourselves time to look into other methods in case it doesn’t.” Yes, Natsume used ‘we’. He had made this his personal mission.

“Natsume,” Tanuma’s sigh was filled with helplessness.

Touched by his friend’s concerns for him, Natsume patted the taller teen on the back. “You know, Tanuma, I never once thought that I will get to grow old.”

Tanuma looked alarmed at the morbid thought. “Natsume-”

Natsume shot his friend a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal,’ he meant. “You know how dangerous the ayakashi could be.”

Yes, of course Tanuma knew. The spiritual world is one where the golden rule is ‘eat or be eaten’.

“Yet, I could not bring myself to stay away,” Natsume’s gaze strayed to the base of the street lamp near them.

Tanuma wondered what kind of youkai he saw there. The monk’s son couldn’t blame his friend. He too, wished he had more spiritual powers. So that he could see more of that world, which was wondrous despite its savagery. So that he could quench his infinite curiosity.

“And then, there’s also…” Natsume trailed off. “I told you about my grandmother, Reiko-san, right?”

Tanuma nodded. And immediately caught on. “Even if she didn’t marry-”

“I know,” Natsume couldn’t bear to hear anything untoward about her, even though it was a fact. He was still a little scared to hate her once he knew more of her. His always smiling grandmother, who looked exactly like him. Who hated both the humans and the youkai. “I’m different from her. Still, we’re both not what the society would call normal. I don’t know if I’ll ever have a chance to father a child in my life.” His gaze stayed firmly on the ground as he continued to speak.

“Natsume…” Tanuma’s voice sounded strange. A little determined, a little scared, a little hopeful. Natsume couldn’t understand the emotions behind it.

And he wouldn’t get to, it seemed, for a familiar figure of a badger-like white cat appeared between them.

Both humans jumped back in shock. “Ponta!” Tanuma exclaimed.

“How long are you two slowpokes going to take, still?” Nyanko-sensei tsked. “Tohko-san is starting to get worried. And I’m very hungry!” The cat proceeded to crawl back toward the Fujiwara’s, not caring if Natsume followed him or not.

The flaxen-haired teenager looked at his friend. “I will be all right, Tanuma,” he attempted to reassure the other male one last time. “Thank you.”

Natsume didn’t hear anything from Tanuma as he ran after the not-cat.

* * *

September came upon them. Natsume donned the long-sleeved gakuran for his last second term, the pin ‘III’ neatly fastened to his collar. [4] “Itekimasu!” he told Tohko-san as he took the bentou she’d prepared for him.

“Itekimasu!” her smile was bright as she sent him off.

School was blissfully uneventful. Natsume lost himself to weeks of calculus, modern Japanese and English, until one day he met a familiar horned mask hanging upside down outside the window next to his seat.

It took everything Natsume had not to jump out of his skin and scream. “Hiiragi!” he hissed.

Natsume must have still given an outward indication of shock, because his teacher called him out. “Natsume-kun, is anything wrong?”

“It’s nothing, sensei,” he reflexively said, then added, “May I go to the toilet?”

“Ah, sure…” the bespectacled woman replied.

Natsume ran out and entered the first empty room he saw. He made sure nobody was around and whispered, “Hiiragi, are you here?”

The shoulder-length haired shiki appeared before him, one hand on the sheathed wooden sword behind him. “Natsume,” she greeted him.

“Don’t shock me like that,” the school boy gave her a dead-panned stare.

Hiiragi ignored him. “I come here to pass a message from my master.”

Natsume suddenly remembered, and felt guilty about forgetting. He quickly took the envelope on Hiiragi’s outstretched hand. “What happened to Natori-san? Why can’t he come here himself?” Like he’d done so many times before…?

“Master is preparing himself for the ritual. He can’t move much,” the shiki answered. At Natsume’s worried expression, she added, “he’s fine.”

The message only contained a few short sentences and tickets. ‘Please clear your weekend. I will call your guardians myself. I’m sorry I can’t accompany you there.’

The tickets were for Shin-Osaka Sakura shinkansen [5], and busses connecting Hitoyoshi to Kumamoto. Scheduled to depart on Friday night, and return on Sunday night.

Natsume stared at the writing till they blurred.

He had already steeled his resolve. He thought he had. Yet…

“Master said if you need any rescheduling, or anything else, you can let me know. Master’s father can arrange any necessary changes. Master is currently not near any human civilizations.” Hiiragi’s monotonous voice tethered him.   

“Ah, no, this weekend is fine,” Natsume smiled at the shiki, hoping that she couldn’t look through the surface and glimpse the turmoil inside.

Her masked face was directed at him for a while, but she eventually turned away. “I will pass the message to my master.”

By the time Natsume reached home, he could tell that Natori-san had made the phone call. Tohko-san looked happy. “It’s really best to enjoy yourself before the exam frenzy starts,” she remarked with a smile.

Nervousness must have shown on Natsume’s face, because she unexpectedly called on him, “Takashi-kun,” her serious tone surprised the teenager. She looked hesitant for a moment, but ploughed on determinedly. “You know you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Natsume’s heart was caught in his throat. _Has she found out? How did she know?_

“Even if the other person [6] is a famous actor, you shouldn’t be afraid. If he truly loves you, he should give you the time you need, wait until you’re ready. If not, he’s not worth you,” Tohko-san preached.

It took Natsume a couple of minutes to understand what his foster mother was getting at. His cheeks turned so red he looked like a tomato. “Tohko-san!” Natsume rose to his feet, “Natori-san is not my boyfriend!”

“Eh, he isn’t?” Tohko-san looked embarrassed. “ _Gomenasai_! The two of you are quite close! You take trips together, and you…” she paused, “Sorry to say this…but the two of you don’t really have much in common, do you?”

To ‘outsiders’ like Kitamoto and Tohko-san, people who couldn’t see spirits, Natori-san’s and Natsume’s friendship would seem a little suspicious. And the doubt would be cast on Natori-san’s side.

Besides, Tohko-san’s intuition wasn’t very far off.

Natsume must be brooding, since Tohko-san sighed and placed her hand onto his shoulder gently. “Whatever it is, I believe Natori-kun is a kind gentleman.”

 _That, indeed, he was._ Natsume tried to brighten for his guardian’s sake. “Thank you for your concern, Tohko-san. We’re really just friends.”

That Friday afternoon, Sumeragi waited at the gate of Natsume’s school, dressed in ordinary long-sleeved white shirt and dark trousers. He looked just like any other salarymen. The girls in his class gossiped of the handsome man, regardless.

A couple of times before the summer holiday ended, the middle-aged exorcist had visited Natsume and continued teaching him defensive spells. Natsume had the impression Natori-san disapproved, but Sumeragi was stubborn. In any case, Natsume had reaped benefits from the visits, and gotten used to the older male.

Amongst the silence of the long, long journey, the hermit spoke, once. “Thank you.”

Immediately, Natsume knew the words weren’t for helping him buy a boxed dinner or place his bag on the overhead compartment. The teenager tightened his grip on the book Sumeragi lent him. “It’s nothing.”

Nyanko-sensei, which had been lying prone on Natsume’s lap, pretending to be a stuffed animal whose head was sticking out of the bag, snorted.

Natsume dozed in the car Sumeragi rented in Osaka, having spent over ten hours sitting, and when he came to, it was a little hard to believe he was still on earth.

They were on a hilltop, surrounded by nature. That wasn’t so much different from Hitoyoshi, but the air, the water in the lake, they felt so pure. And the branches were buzzing with sounds.

Prattles of the youkai, Natsume realized when he glimpsed the tiny hotaru sprites conversing over the daffodils.

“What is this?” Nyanko-sensei sniffed the air, bounced to his feet and took to running around the grasses, as though he was rapidly energized. 

“Welcome to the place I was brought up,” Sumeragi spoke, his tone both fond and proud. “It’s probably one of the spiritually purest places left in Japan. It has a natural barrier against evil.”

Natsume believed him. Even the mist felt different.

“Ah, Natsume,” Natori-san was lying in bed at the only wooden building next to the lake. He looked slightly pale, the white yukata he was swathed in worsening his complexion. “Sorry for not getting you here myself. Are you tired?”

“Natori-san!” Natsume quickly approached the older man’s bedside.

“I’m fine,” the exorcist pushed himself up to his elbows and put one hand on Natsume’s temple. “The ritual will only be held in the evening. Why don’t you rest first?”

It was a dismissal. But Natsume understood vulnerability and the desire to not let anyone see. He nodded and let himself be seen to by an apprentice of Sumeragi, a teenage boy only a couple of years younger.

Natsume slept the morning away, and came afternoon, the apprentice brought him to the foot of the hill to eat lunch and go sightseeing. There were many shrines dedicated to the tengu and Dakiniten.

As they sat on a stone bench, Nyanko-sensei munching away on oyaki dango and soba [7], Natsume attempted a conversation with his guide. “Nagai-san, are you an Izuna user…?”

The thin boy didn’t say anything for a while. Just as Natsume thought he was intruding, Nagai replied. “I’m learning to be. From Natori-san.”

The name disoriented him until Natsume realized Nagai meant Satsuki-san. “You inherited it?” what a redundant question.

“From my grandmother,” the close-cropped practitioner humoured Natsume, nonetheless. “Urahara chose me when she passed.” He pulled back his sleeve, and there, a ginger-coloured snake rested, curled around a slender forearm.

“So you can see…” Natsume couldn’t finish the sentence. There were tourists around.

Surprisingly, Nagai shook his head. “I can see Urahara because of our pact. I see spirits from Urahara’s eyes through the connection we share. My family has been merchants since Meiji. Grandmother was married in.”

Natsume imagined it could not have been easy for Nagai to have his life turned upside down by a familiar he had to inherit for the family to avoid a curse. And his family was normal, not one with a history of dealings with ayakashi. “Do you…” Natsume hesitated, “hate Urahara?”

Nagai shrugged. “When I was a kid, I didn’t understand why I had to move to Nagano alone. I threw a lot of tantrums. Natori-san was very troubled, I heard from sempai-gata (the older apprentices).” The boy opened up to strangers very fast. Maybe it was because he didn’t interact with a lot of people on a daily basis. “Now…” he looked at the furry familiar with tenderness. “I stopped thinking about the life I could have lived. I am just grateful Urahara introduced me to that world.”

The spiritual world drew people in, despite the dangers. Taki, Tanuma, Shinichirou-san, they were all similarly hooked.

At around 4pm, Nagai led them uphill again. Sumeragi welcomed them at the wooden house, a white yukata folded over his hand. “Come, Natsume-kun,” he handed the clothes to the teenager, “we shall start your purification.”

The middle-aged practitioner led him to a small waterfall, where Natsume had to stand under while Sumeragi chanted some sutras. It was teeth-chatteringly cold, but fortunately the purification didn’t last long. After Natsume dried himself, he had symbols painted on his torso in black ink. Over his heart.

“We’re done,” the older man pronounced as he made one last decisive stroke. “Stay still for a moment for it to dry. And here,” a piece of paper was slipped into his hand. “In case anything goes…wrong. Later. Please bite this and tore it with your teeth.”

Some of the burden that plagued Natsume’s mind crumpled away. Earlier, he was worrying if there would be other people watching the ritual. But it seemed he and Natori-san would be left alone.

After the sun set, Natsume was told to enter the room at the corner, the one constructed over the lake, seemingly floating above the water. He stared at the shoji [8] for what must be a good minute before sliding the furniture open. “Pardon my intrusion.”

The interior had been thoroughly redecorated, ropes tied over four sides along with candles at every corner. There was a large round symbol etched on the tatami, ofudas plastered all over the ceiling. The set up was more elaborate than the one at the inn of their first onsen trip. The room was full of spiritual energy, even the air felt highly charged.

“Welcome, Natsume,” Natori-san sat in the centre, within the innermost circle of the symbol on the floor. He too was in a white yukata, but the symbols on his chest extended all the way down to his stomach, and places hidden by his clothes.

The exorcist’s face was hidden in shadows, but whatever Natsume could see indicated that Natori-san was healthier than this morning. He was relieved.

The relief was short-lived however. “Close the door behind you,” Natori-san said, and after Natsume obeyed, all of a sudden he felt trapped. The air felt hotter, although there really weren’t enough candles to warrant such an effect. Natsume was frozen.

“Natsume?” Natori-san’s face looked kind and understanding.

Even now, he was ready to let Natsume go. The realization only made the teenager felt ashamed. And helped him step forward, one foot at a time, until he too, was inside the innermost circle.

Natsume barely finished folding his knees when Natori-san got up to his feet. “You’re too tense,” he settled behind the teenager. “Please try to relax.”

“Natori-san-” Natsume’s voice was strangled when the older man placed his thumb on his companion’s shoulder and pressed down. Hard.

“Shh,” Natori-san whispered as his fingers continued to work magic on Natsume’s spine, unraveling the knots on his lower back which had resulted from the overnight travel and sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. “Take a deep breath. That’s it.”

There was a floral scent permeating the room. Lavender? It was soothing to his nerves.

“Natsume,” the word was spoken just next to his ear, fiery puffs of breath tickling the soft-boned shell. Natsume shivered, even with the heat of Natori-san’s chest, pressed close to his shoulder blades. “Do you want something to drink? To help you…” the sentence was left trailing.

Natsume could feel the blush spreading under his cheeks. “I-” he turned around so fast his head felt hazy. His nose ended on Natori-san’s neck. “I’d rather…not,” his voice sounded so weak against the velvety warmth.

Natsume felt the pulse under his lips jump before Natori-san inhaled sharply and leaned forward even further. “Shitsure shimasu,” the teenager heard, before he felt fingers massaging his penis through his underwear.

Natsume gasped and arched against the figure supporting his back. “Na-natori-san!” he exclaimed breathlessly.

“Sshh,” another strong arm slipped through his waist and joined the other hand in applying pressure, long slender appendages curled around the organ and pulling it gently, picking up pace each passing second. “Close your eyes.”

“Hnn-” Natsume did so inadvertently, one fist clenched against the fabric of his yukata over his lap, his collar slipping down to his left bicep as his right hand held on to Natori-san for dear life. He resisted the urge to move away as pleasure built up, flinching when the air suddenly hit his sensitive skin. “C-cold-”  

“Daijoubu,” Natori-san’s voice was so soft it almost didn’t sound like his. Soft palms rubbed against the head of his cock as the support behind him slowly disappeared. Natsume felt his centre of gravity shifted as he was positioned on his back to the tatami.

For a while, Natsume panicked. “Natori-”

“I’m here, shh, I’m here.” One hand gripped Natsume’s right hand, fingers weaving together. Natsume felt another hand laid on his left hipbone, keeping him grounded. Hot breaths caressed his skin, traveling from his exposed thigh, upward to his groin.

“Aah-” Natsume nearly choked as he was engulfed in a wet warmth, his toes curling as a soft suction made him dizzy. The teenager couldn’t help it anymore. He pushed himself up with his left elbow and opened his eyes.

The sight that greeted him caused desire to tug low in his abdomen. Natori-san’s lips stretched over his member, long lashes and disheveled hair casting shadows on his hollowed cheeks. Natsume keened and reached out for the actor’s bobbing head. “N-no. It’s…dirty.”

Natori-san peered up, his eyes dark in the dim lighting of the room, and chuckled. The vibration made Natsume jerk, the thrust of his hips only halted by Natori-san’s aforementioned grip. “It’s not,” Natori-san spoke teasingly after he pulled back, the loss causing Natsume to groan. “You washed in the waterfall too, right?”

Natsume was torn between requesting Natori-san to continue and telling him to stop. As Natsume was thinking, the actor licked a path up his penis before closing his mouth on the tip. A burst of pleasure spread to Natsume’s stomach.

That decided it. “Stop, stop. I’m going to-”

That alerted his companion. Natori-san rose to his arse. “Okay, just lie down, close your eyes and relax.”

Natsume followed two of the instructions, and watched as Natori-san turned his back to Natsume and kneeled over his stomach. He lifted the hem of his yukata and reached for a bottle of oil Natsume didn't see before. "Could you please bend your knees?"

Natsume watched as Natori-san leaned on said knees and reached around his back to pull his underwear off the smooth, shapely globes of his arse, and bury a finger into his anus. Natsume shuddered when Natori-san panted against his left kneecap and wiggled his hips while adding more fingers. The sight was...hypnotic.

"Nn" his dick jumped when it was coated in something slick. Natsume took a deep breath to calm his excited brains when fingers were wrapped around the base of his dick and-

Oh.

_Oh!_

“Haa-” Natsume stopped breathing as his flesh disappeared into Natori-san, inch by inch till he was buried to the hilt, the sight accompanied by unbearable pleasure that flowed over his limit of endurance. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, his skin so sensitive his clothes felt irritating. Words stopped making sense. Just the tight smooth heat and the delicious friction. Fingers scrabbled against the tatami as Natsume pushed his hips involuntarily.

“Aagh-” The noise that fell out of Natori-san sounded pained, the cadence clearing the haze from Natsume’s mind immediately. He watched his companion’s spine curved away from him, knobs pressing against the thin fabric of the yukata, and Natsume desperately needed to see the exorcist’s face. “Turn around, Natori-san.”

“Huh?” The tawny-haired man looked over his shoulder. “What…?”

Natsume raised himself to his elbows. With great difficulty, he gripped his partner’s hips and pull himself out. Natori-san couldn’t help the wince that showed on his expression. “I want to face you,” Natsume said as he circled the exorcist and sat in front of him.

Natori-san scooted back to give the teenager more room. “Are you sure…?”

Natsume was a little annoyed. “Yes!” He wounded his arms around the older man’s torso and pulled him closer, never mind the blazing of his cheeks.

Natori-san laughed and mussed Natsume’s hair, irritating him further. “All right, all right. I thought the reminder of how male your partner is would turn you off,” the actor raised himself to his knees over Natsume’s lap and leaned on the teenager’s shoulders, slowly sinking down.

Natsume sighed as he rested his forehead on Natori-san’s collarbone. “To be honest, I don’t know if I’m straight or not…”

“Well, lucky for you, I am not,” the words were grunted somewhere above his head.

“Huh?” Natsume looked up, but before he could see the other man’s face, a familiar gripping sensation washed over his groin, causing his thighs to tremble. “Ahh-”

“Nothing quite like it…” Natori-san remarked breathlessly, his chest heaving like he’d ran a marathon. The skin exposed by the parted collar was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Natsume panted against Natori-san’s neck as his companion bottomed out. When the older man began to move up and down, Natsume’s hips followed him instinctively.  

“D-don’t,” the word was spoken through gritted teeth, sobering Natsume up again.

The teenager held onto whatever shred of self-discipline he had as Natori-san set the pace, his eyes captivated by the symbols on the older man’s skin, black ink gleaming blue and purple in the candlelight as Natori-san writhed. Spiritual powers were working their magic on him. Natsume resisted the urge to touch the runes, lest he smudged them.

“Oh,” Natori-san uttered a soft sound and tensed all of a sudden, before his frame was wracked by tiny shivers. A wet patch spread on his underwear, which Natsume just realized had not been taken off fully.

So the teen finished the job, and was faced by the other man’s erection, standing thick and red from a thatch of dark brown curls. An unexplainable tingle spread in Natsume’s gut. His mouth felt dry.

“Natsume-” Natori-san gasped as Natsume curled his fingers around it and stroked tentatively. Nails dug into the skin of the teenager’s shoulders.

“Yes?” Natsume quickened his strokes and risked thrusting his hip. This time, Natori-san moaned and pressed his eyes shut, swollen lips hanging open as successive gasps left his throat. Natsume couldn’t take his eyes off the rose-coloured flush blooming on the skin over the actor’s fine cheekbones.

The gecko skittered over Natori-san’s face, seemingly more in a frenzy than usual. Natsume absently noticed it could not crawl further south than Natori-san’s neck, where a line of tiny symbols was drawn, like a noose, fencing the birthmark. Natsume sucked the hollow below Natori-san’s Adam’s apple, where the gecko currently stayed still, wondering if the mark would walk over to his face instead.

“Natsume,” Natori-san’s frustrated voice caught Natsume’s attention. “More,” he wheezed against Natsume’s lips, the movements of their hips more and more erratic.

“What…?” his sight turned white when Natori-san squeezed his insides. He toppled forward and brought the two of them to the floor.

“Natori-san,” the friction couldn’t be fast enough. “Natori-san.” The older man thrashed his head and bit his lower lip, the long legs around Natsume’s waist tensing, heels digging to the teen’s lower back. “Faster. Harder,” he murmured, seemingly not in control of himself anymore. The great actor, not in control of himself.

The thought brought Natsume over the edge. He craned his neck to press his lips to Natori-san’s in an open-mouthed messy kiss. “Natori-san-”

The room was bathed in bright light as he climaxed.

 And Natsume knew no more.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bon_Festival
> 
> 2\. I love CLAMP verse too much…
> 
> 3\. I know! I’m twenty five, and a child isn’t in my agenda till at least 3-4 years.
> 
> 4\. Most Japanese schools run on a trimester system: 1st term runs from April to end July, 2nd term September to mid-December, and last term January to March (after 2 week-winter break for Christmas and New Year). Summer holiday duration and dates vary as summer vary across regions, but is typically six weeks. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Academic_term#Japan  
> In the anime season 1 and 2 we saw Natsume wearing ‘I’ pin on his collar, and in season 3 and 4 he wore ‘II’. In this fic, he was in his third and final year of high school.
> 
> 5\. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sakura_(train) 
> 
> 6\. Another ‘not sure how to translate’ word. In Japanese, the word is ‘aite’ (相手) which literally means: a) Companion, b) Addressee, c) Opponent. 
> 
> 7\. I have never been to Nagano. All information in this fic are from http://www.go-nagano.net 
> 
> 8\. Sliding doors made of wood and paper. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sh%C5%8Dji


End file.
